I had wired Mr. Walford (our resident London agent) before leaving Queenstown, asking him to meet me if convenient and to have a taxi. I knew that he lived far out in the suburbs, and that if he were not forewarned there would be no way of his getting to the station on Sunday morning. Previously in the day (Saturday) when I had wired him to cable you, I had added the words that I would wire my plans later in the day. This second wire which I sent from Queenstown did not reach him, although he waited at his shop until 8 o’clock Saturday night. He had decided that if there was any way of getting directly through to London that I would come. So he set his clock for 4 A.M., got up, made himself a cup of tea, and walked from his house to Euston, a distance of 9 miles--that’s some demonstration of friendship! He insisted that I come to his house, and I certainly wanted to do so, for his home looked better to me than the Hotel Kingsley or the Embassy. I took Mr. Walford back to the Ambassador and introduced him. On explaining the situation to Mr. Page he told me by all means to follow my own wishes. We arrived at the home in the suburbs and Mrs. Walford was there to give me a hearty welcome. I must have been a “sad sketch” as I walked into their hospitable home. I had no hat, for I hadn’t spent the time to get one at Queenstown and I knew I had one here in London. I hadn’t had a comb in my hair since I got up Friday noon. All my worldly possessions were in a small “brown-paper parcel” tucked under my arm; so even Ben Franklin didn’t have much on me when he struck Philadelphia in the old days, as the story goes. After breakfast they tucked me into bed with a-big-fat-hot-water-bottle, and after a few hours’ sleep under that hospitable roof I was quite myself again. A hot tub and shave put on the final touches. Monday morning, despite their kind invitation to stay with them as long as I wished, I felt I ought to take up my abode at the Hotel Kingsley and commence picking up the threads of business, although I knew I should feel pretty much lost when I had not a single memorandum “to get on with.” My small leather case containing all my business papers had gone down with the Lusitania. Think of a “Lauriat” trying to do business without a lot of neat little folders sitting around his desk! I shall follow with keen interest the Official Inquiry to be held by Lord Mersey, for I want to see if these points are brought out:-- 1. WHAT were the instructions from the Admiralty for the navigation of the ship and were they carefully followed out? 2. WHY were we not running top speed? 3. WHY were the portholes on decks D open? Never mind the “why,” but I should like to have the fact established as to whether they were or were not open.