MY DEAREST BABY,

[Page Heading: CAPTAIN L. M. B. SALMON]

I have (of course) been getting letters and parcels very badly lately. I
am sending this home by hand, which is not allowed except on Red Cross
business, but this is to ask how Lionel is, so I think I may send it. My
poor Bet! What anxiety for her! This spring weather is making me long to
be at home, and when people tell me the crocuses are up in the
park!--well, you know London and the park belong to me! Are the catkins
out? We can get flowers at Dunkirk, but not here.

Not a word of war news, because that wouldn't be fair. A shilling wire
about Lionel would satisfy me--just "Better, and Bet well," or something
of that sort.

Always, my dear,
Your loving,
S. MACNAUGHTAN.

P.S.--Your two letters and Bet's have just come. To be in touch with you
again is _very_ pleasant. I can't tell you what it was like to sit down
to a pretty, clean breakfast to-day with my letters beside me. Someone
brought them here early.

I heard to-day that I am going to be decorated by the King of the
Belgians, but don't spread this broadcast, as anything might happen in
war.