Feb. 10, 1918. It is a glorious, sunny, mild, Springy day here. The patients who can walk are crawling out into the sun. Many beds have been carried out so that some of the sickest may have the benefit of the warm rays of the run. The nurses walk around with a kind of sauntering air that shows that they are able to appreciate the lovely day and the precious lack of rush. This afternoon there will be many walks. Last Sunday afternoon I had a perfect walk. We were gone from two to six-thirty, and walked miles through lovely country roads and lanes. Pussy-willows are out and bushes show budding leaves, and it feels as though Spring were really here. But we are likely to have more cold weather yet, we are told. I am _on_ until about four-thirty. Miss Taylor is back and I am due to go to-morrow. Phil is coming down soon to play basket-ball with our officers against some Canadian officers. There is a good place to play right in front of the grand stand on the track, which is all turf. I am looking forward most eagerly to my leave. I need to see new faces for a while. Phil and I had dinner together down town a few days ago. I had many errands at the Base Cashier’s, banks, etc., and met him at our favorite rendezvous--the Cathedral; then we wandered around together, did little errands, had a nice dinner, and were back here by eight-thirty. That evening we had a lecture in the Mess by one of our young officers--a very brilliant young fellow--on the war. He has been giving a series of talks to us. The first was on the Western front and its changes, and the second was on the Balkan States. The nurses were much interested. We are too near to be able to get any kind of a good view of the whole situation, and we have not time to hunt for it in periodicals. We have no further word about the Vassar proposition. It would be a fearfully hard thing to leave this Unit. I shall have such a nice time with Elizabeth in London. Food is scarce there; the paper says they in London can have only one meat meal a week! But what do I care? I’m bringing E. a present of sugar! I’ll write you from there. Loads and loads of love. Jule. London W. Friday, February 15, 1918.