e a good test for it.

It is so wet to-night that we are going to have cocoa and
bread-and-butter on the floor, instead of trailing down to the hotel for
dinner. Miss ----, who is the third in our room, regales us with really
thrilling stories of her adventures in S.A. She was mentioned in
despatches, and reported dead.

_Thursday, August 27th._--Bright sun to-day, so I hope the Army is
drying itself. All sorts of rumours as usual--that our wounded are still
on the field, being shot by the Germans, that 700 are coming to Havre
to-day, that 700 have been taken in at Rouen, where we have three
G.H.'s--that last is the truest story. We went this afternoon to see
over the Hospital Ship here, waiting for wounded to take back to
Netley. It is beautifully fitted, and even has hot-water bottles ready
in the beds, but no wounded. It is much smaller than the H.S. _Dunera_ I
came home in from South Africa. Still no sign of No.-- being ready,
which is not surprising, as the hay had to be cut and the place drained
more or less. The French and English officers here all sit at different
tables, and don't hobnob much. Six officers of the Royal Flying Corps
are here, double-breasted tunics and two spread-eagle wings on left
breast. Troops are still arriving at the docks, which are the biggest I
have ever seen. The men on the trams give us back our sous, as we are
"Militaires."

_Friday, August 28th._--Hot and brilliant. Eleven fugitive Sisters of
No.-- have come back to-day from Amiens, and the others are either hung
up somewhere or on the way. The story is that Uhlans were arriving in
the town, and that it wasn't safe for women; I don't know if the
hospital were receiving wounded or not. Yes, they were. Another rumour
to-day says that No.-- Field Ambulance has been wiped out by a bomb from
an aeroplane. Another rumour says that one regiment has five men left,
and another one man--but most of these stories turn out myths in time.

Wounded are being taken in at No.--, and are being shipped home from
there the same day.

This morning Matron took two of us out to our Hospital camp, three miles
along the Harfleur road. The tram threaded its way through thousands of
our troops, who arrived this morning, and through a regiment of French
Sappers. There were Seaforths (with khaki petticoats over the kilt), R.
Irish Rifles, R.B. Gloucesters, Connaughts, and some D.G.'s and Lancers.
They were all heavily loaded up with kit and rifles (so