usiastic over the war, and the
soldiers want to get home. One young officer, 26 years old, has been
loafing in Tiflis for six months, and has at last been arrested. Another
took his ticket on eight successive nights to leave the place and never
moved. At last he was locked in his room, and a motor-car ordered to
take him to the station. He got into it, and was not heard of for three
days, when his wife appeared, and found her husband somewhere in the
town.

Mrs. Wynne and Mr. Bevan have gone on ahead to Baku, but I must wait for
my damaged car. A young officer in this hotel shot himself dead this
morning. No one seems to mind much.

[Page Heading: RUSSIAN SOCIETY]

_25 January._--Last night I was invited to play bridge by one of the
richest women in Russia. Her room was just a converted bedroom, with a
dirty wall-paper. The packs of cards were such as one might see
railway-men playing with in a lamp-room. Our stakes were a few kopeks,
and the refreshments consisted of one tepid cup of tea, without either
milk or lemon, and not a biscuit to eat. We all sat with shawls on, as
our hostess said it wasn't worth while to light a fire so late at night.
A nice little Princess Musaloff and Prince Napoleon Murat played with
me. We were rich in titles, but our shoulders were cold.

I have not seen a single nice or even comfortable room since I left
England, and although some women dress well, and have pretty
cigarette-boxes from the renowned Faberje, other things about them are
all wrong. The furniture in their rooms is covered with plush, and the
ornaments (to me) suggest a head-gardener's house at home with "an
enlargement of mother" over the mantelpiece; or a Clapham drawing-room,
furnished during some happy year when cotton rose, or copper was
cornered. In this hotel the carpets are in holes in the passages, and
there are few servants; but I don't fancy that the people here notice
things very much.

I went to see Mme. ---- one day in her new house. The rooms were large
and handsome. There was a picture of a cow at one end of the
drawing-room, and a mirror framed in plush at the other!

I must draw a "character" one day of the very charming woman who is
absolutely indifferent to people's feelings. The fact that some humble
soul has prepared something for her, or that a sacrifice has been made,
or that one kind speech would satisfy, does not occur to her. These are
the people who chuck engagements when they get better inv