That was the beginning of a very strange evening, almost an extraordinary evening. For while the novelist was on her way back to peace these young women were on their way home. And home to them was one room of a shattered house directly on the firing line. Much has been said about women at the front. As far as I know at that time there were only two women absolutely at the front. Nurses as a rule are kept miles behind the line. Here and there a soup kitchen, like that just spoken of, has held its courageous place three or four miles back along the lines of communication. I have said that they were extraordinarily dressed. Rather they were most practically dressed. Under khaki-coloured leather coats these two young women wore khaki riding breeches with puttees and flannel shirts. They had worn nothing else for six months. They wore knitted caps on their heads, for the weather was extremely cold, and mittens. The fire was blazing high and we urged them to take off their outer wraps. For a reason which we did not understand at the time they refused. They sat with their leather coats buttoned to the throat, and coloured violently when urged to remove them. "But what are you doing here?" said one of the officers. "What brings you so far from P----" They said they had had an errand, and went on drinking tea. "What sort of an errand?" a young lieutenant demanded. They exchanged glances. "Shopping," they said, and took more tea. "Shopping, for what?" He was smilingly impertinent. They hesitated. Then: "For mutton," one of them replied. Both looked relieved. Evidently the mutton was an inspiration. "We have found some mutton." They turned to me. "It is a real festival. You have no idea how long it is since we've had anything of the sort." "Mutton!" cried the novelist, with frankly greedy eyes. "It makes wonderful soup! Where can I get it?" They told her, and she stood up, tied on her seven veils and departed, rejoicing, in a car that had come for her. When she was gone Colonel M---- turned to one of the young women. "Now," he said, "out with it. What brings you both so far from your thriving and prosperous little community?" The irony of that was lost on me until later, when I discovered that the said community was a destroyed town with the advance line of trenches running through it, and that they lived in the only two whole rooms in the place. "Out with it," said the colonel, and scowled ferociously. Driven into a corner they were obliged to confess. For three hours that afternoon they had stood in a freezing wind on a desolate field, while King Albert of Belgium decorated for bravery various officers and--themselves. The jealously fastened coats were thrown open. Gleaming on the breast of each young woman was the star of the Order of Leopold! "But why did you not tell us?" the officers demanded.