kept there without leave such a long time. And I expect that he also
has rather lost interest. At first the men were a great source of
interest, and the horses and everything. Then France and the front were
very interesting. Lastly, being under fire was very interesting. But now
that we are back in Rest, I begin to feel I shall be rather sorry to go
through it again. And Tom has had so much of it. Yes, he ought to come
home.

The cottage people here have those lovely pale salmon winter
chrysanthemums in their gardens. Don't you like them?

Since we arrived in this wee village a week ago, I haven't been on a
horse once, and have never seen anything outside the village itself,
which consists of one street and a side-lane.


_November 14._

I wasn't able to write yesterday, and there may be several blank days to
come.

Roger is temporarily away, and I am in charge. The thing that's
happening is this: A and B are coming down to us, and others are going
to relieve them. So the arrangements and correspondence are vast. All
the billeting of this town is pushed on to my hands, too; and though
it's only a small village, there's a good lot to do. I can't collect any
thoughts to write to you. You understand, I know, and so I needn't say
more. I'll write again at length when things settle down. This sounds
muddled. But I count on your understanding that I've got more work to do
than I can manage.