m. There we were met by
some "Y" men, and after the identification of baggage, which with a
hundred girls is a desperate affair, we were all loaded into huge
trucks or "brakes" as they call them, and carted to our various
destinations. About twenty of us were dumped out at the Melbourne
Hotel, a decidedly God-forsaken place just off Russell Square. There I
shared a room with Miss P. an awfully nice Washington girl. If you
could see that room! It was desperately cold, and so damp the towels
were wet. A broken gas mantle way up near the ceiling gave a dim
greenish light which seemed to mix up with the fog and become part of
the oppressing atmosphere. We were back in the land of pitcher and
bowl and slop jar, and brushing your teeth from a tumbler. Neither of
us had heroism enough to bathe, but crawled into our humid bed with
sweaters and warm wrappers and bedsocks on, and all the capes and fur
coats piled on top. Somehow we shivered ourselves to sleep.

The next morning the sun was actually shining. After a sloppy
breakfast, we all reported at the Imperial Hotel where we were given
instructions on all kinds of things. We were to be sent to Paris in
relays just as quickly as possible. In the meantime London was ours.
Miss P., who knew London, and I went shopping. I was chiefly
interested in discovering all evidences of war. London _had_ changed
somehow, yet not exactly in the way one might vaguely imagine. Shops
were all thriving apparently, Liberty's windows as entrancing as ever,
movement and crowds everywhere. Yet if you observed closely you saw
how few automobiles and taxis there were, though the busses were the
same as ever, except that there were women-conductors. The streets
were absolutely flooded with men in uniform, soldiers of all kinds.
There were many Australians and New Zealanders, tall, lean men with
weather-beaten faces and a certain attractive swagger which is
augmented by their broad-brimmed hats turned up at one side. Canadians
were everywhere, and in less numbers, Americans. And of course the
British in their splendid uniforms with their unmistakable bearing. I
was glad to see so many, many specimens of noble Anglo-Saxons. They
seem to me to be the hope of England. The most striking of all are the
Scotch; perfect giants of men, in their kilts and plaids, bare knees
and all. Then there were many wounded, men wearing the blue hospital
uniform, with arms and legs gone, heads bandaged, limping forth to get