This mixture of dolce far niente and a lark is going to put us in fine trim for the fall work. Don't forget, Father, you're going to get some confiding editor or journalist to send me to the devastated towns? Love, ESTHER. XXIV FROM ESTHER September 4, 1917. DEAREST MOTHER:-- The cable came yesterday afternoon and caused a great stir in this little ménage, I can tell you. I hope to go to the Embassy to-day and get my papers through. Father was a dear to accomplish my wish. I'm grateful; but so excited that I'm shaky, and what did I have to do this morning but run into a taxicab, and we've spent hours writing a formal statement to the insurance companies in both French and English; and I only broke one spoke of his wheel, but it is too embêtant for words. We have to send them notice within twenty-four hours and I don't want that taxi-driver to have a show at making a fuss. Mrs. Shurtleff finally got a laisser-passer to go to the evacuated villages with clothes for the people left there, and she and Miss Curtis left Friday in the jitney. Miss Curtis has lent us her Ford touring-car until her return, and, believe me, we have hardly let the engine cool off. Saturday afternoon we did shopping, and it was such a joy to be able to go about from place to place in the heat without having to think of taxis or walking or anything. I asked Miss Hubbard where to get a nice dress. The only thing I have to wear is the old blue-and-tan, and its clutch on life is weakening visibly. The lace and net are torn to shreds, the sleeves that I put in last spring are hanging by a thread, and Leo has nothing on it for spots. Well, she told me to go to Jenny, she being the least expensive of all the good places. I said, "How much do you suppose the cheapest little frock would be?" and she said, "Oh, of course, she doesn't touch anything under seven hundred francs--but they wear forever, and it would be wonderful for our business." "I guess it would be death on mine," I told her, and I should have to hear more directly from headquarters before any such altruistic venture. After the war, I'd just like to get something wonderful, but not for now, unless Father wants me to!