Once in Paris we found that we were completely lost, having brought everything with us but a map of Paris. It was too provoking, but here my refugee knowledge did me good service, and I picked my way in and out among the slums and found the way straight to our Lion de Belfort. We had enough energy left to start unpacking that dear little car that was stuffed full to the roof. The people at the pension were all excitement, and the maids ran up and down stairs helping us with our things. We went over at once to Mrs. Shurtleff. We found her looking worn. We knew how anxious she must have been to know that we had arrived safely, so that you can imagine how we felt when we tiptoed into the room and found that she was so weak that all she could do was to turn her head on the pillow and say, "Hello, girls!" We found that she had fainted twice coming up on the train, but that Miss Curtis had taken care of her at the station. After seeing Mrs. Shurtleff, we took the car to Miss Curtis's because we knew no place to leave it overnight. We did not feel much like a triumphal entry, but Miss Curtis and Miss Sturgis were so glad to see us that all we had to do was to answer questions and get back to Place Denfert as soon as possible. Well, that is our trip. It certainly was interesting and it laid the foundations of my friendship with Marje, who is the finest ever. It is worth everything to me to have her companionship. Time is up. Devotedly, ESTHER. XII FROM MARJORIE 12 Place Denfert-Rochereau, Paris. (March 26, 1917.) MY DEAREST DADDY:-- Writing nowadays is rather like the shooting the men do at the front; they never can see if their shots get there. I am never sure if my letters get to you, there has been so much trouble with the mails. The head man at Morgan, Harjes told Dr. G. the other day that they had just received a great deal of mail--the first for a long time--which was all wet. The papers were ruined, but the letters had fared better as a whole. I wonder what that meant?