allowed again to see and write for myself; and therefore, what
information can be given me as to the growth of our military power in
France since last year will be given. It is not, of course, a question
of war correspondence, which is not within a woman's powers. But it is a
question of as much "seeing" as can be arranged for, combined with as
much first-hand information as time and the censor allow. I begin to
see my way.

The conversation at luncheon--the simplest of meals--and during a stroll
afterwards, is thrilling indeed to us newcomers. "The coming summer's
campaign _must_ decide the issue of the war--though it may not see the
end of it." "The issue of the war"--and the fate of Europe! "An
inconclusive peace would be a victory for Germany." There is no doubt
here as to the final issue; but there is a resolute refusal to fix
dates, or prophesy details. "Man for man we are now the better army. Our
strength is increasing month by month, while that of Germany is failing.
Men and officers, who a year ago were still insufficiently trained, are
now seasoned troops with nothing to learn from the Germans; and the
troops recruited under the Military Service Act, now beginning to come
out, are of surprisingly good quality." On such lines the talk runs, and
it is over all too soon.

Then we are in the motor again, bound for an aerodrome forty or fifty
miles away. We are late, and the last twenty-seven kilometres fly by in
thirty-two minutes! It is a rolling country, and there are steep
descents and sharp climbs, through the thickly-scattered and
characteristic villages and small old towns of the Nord, villages
crowded all of them with our men. Presently, with a start, we find
ourselves on a road which saw us last spring--a year ago, to the day.
The same blue distances, the same glimpses of old towns in the hollows,