DEAR FRIENDS, ONE AND ALL,—Yesterday I spent a delightful day—a day which I passed in doing nothing—and it was so pleasant, so refreshing, that I must tell you about it. I had laid out so many plans for my first day of freedom. I was to see so many medical people, and so many medical places, that I was almost exhausted in the anticipation, and when my leave of absence actually came, when all things worked right, and I was neither _en service_, nor in the infirmary, nor in the reception, and when moreover, for a wonder, it did not rain, I just determined to give up everything like business, forget there was such a thing as medicine or such a place as the Maternité, and give myself up like a child to the pleasure of looking and moving and eating, and everything that was natural and nothing that was wise! In fact, I found that I could really do nothing of business in a satisfactory way in the short space of eleven hours, so my troublesome conscience for once was quiet, and permitted me to waste a day. I was really amused at myself to find how anxious I was that it should not rain, and how impatient I was for the moment to arrive when I could leave, for by the rules of the place Anna must take me out, and Anna must bring me back precisely at eight o’clock! The _directeur_ could not help laughing when he informed me of these regulations; still, as he said, ‘no exceptions could be made.’ Anna was anxious that I should lose no portion of my short day. She woke up an hour earlier than usual, with the sense of some weighty responsibility resting upon her, which she could not at first understand; but as the idea of the Maternité dawned upon her she rose in haste, and at nine o’clock the summons for Mademoiselle Blackwell was shouted forth under the windows of my dormitory. You must know that these _sorties_ are quite an event to the _élèves_; they gather about the happy departing one with all manner of good wishes for her enjoyment and safe return. So while one hooked my dress, another fastened my gloves, a third arranged my collar, the rest admired with the often repeated compliment, ‘Oh, que vous êtes belle!’ and all sped me on my way with the pleasant greetings of their kind, light hearts.