This morning Rootie started for church early, and got a bath with a friend of hers who lives in a hotel which still has its hot water on Saturday and Sunday! I was, therefore, alone for the morning, and after the washing was counted and put away, and the salon tidied, and the pillows, which had raveled, had been sewn, I decided that I was going to pretend I was at home; so I got dressed as if for Sunday dinner at 378. I put on a nice waist and my pink sweater with the gray collar, which I made myself, and my earrings, and Aunt Sarah's ring. It was really lots of fun. I imagined what I would be doing if I was at home, and who would be there too. Rootie could not imagine what had struck me when she came in and found me all dressed up. I wonder if it would interest you to hear what we did for one family in the way of moving? Rogeau is the name. We have had them on our cards for quite a long time. It is a small family, a tuberculous man and his wife and little boy. We have been boarding the woman and child out in the country, while the man was in the hospital. This summer the woman came in to see us to ask if we could possibly let her have another month out in the country. We were fortunately able to do so, and when her husband came out of his hospital, he joined her in Saint-Prix, where she was boarding, and together they have found a little house at twenty-two francs a month, for the house and garden. They will each have separate rooms to sleep in, and the woman is most careful about cleaning and all that. Owing to our being able to give them the meubles, they were able to take the house at once, and last week I took out to them a table, two chairs, one stool, plates, knives, forks, spoons, a stove, basin, pail, dishtowels, pitcher, sheets, covers,--and extra nice light warm ones for the man,--pillow-cases, casserole, carpet, bathtowels, coffeepot, small pillow for man, refuse pail, coat-hangers, table-cover, and candle and candlestick (having sent three single beds by express). With these few things they can begin to live, and then they will gradually get more. The man has a little forge in an out house in the garden where he works, and has a chair in the sun. He mends pails and pans. I am giving him a chaise-longue with Daddy's money, so that he can rest in between spells of work. I am so hoping that the air and sun will rebuild him as they have others. You would have been as touched as I was at their joy at the few things we brought them. You see they are really beginning to have their home together again. This is only one of so many interesting cases. Having no income except from the little work he does, they are not paying us anything for the things, although lots of other families are paying. If it is possible, it is so much better for them to pay something.