After a miserable winter we, too, are having the rare experience of a little sunshine in this dark, damp world of London.  The constant confinement in the city and in the house (that’s the worst of it—­no outdoor life or fresh air) has played hob with my digestion.  It’s not bad, but it’s troublesome, and for some time I’ve had the feeling of being one half well.  It occurred to me the other day that I hadn’t had leave from my work for four years, except my short visit home nearly two years ago.  I asked for two months off, and I’ve got it.  We are going down by the shore where there is fresh air and where I can live outdoors and get some exercise.  We have a house that we can get there and be comfortable.  To get away from London when the weather promises to be good, and to get away from people seemed a joyous prospect.  I can, at any time I must, come to London in two hours.

The job’s too important to give up at this juncture.  This, then, is the way we can keep it going.  I’ve no such hard task now as I had during the years of our neutrality, which, praise God!  I somehow survived, though I am now suffering more or less from the physical effects of that strain.  Yet, since I have had the good fortune to win the confidence of this Government and these people, I feel that I ought to keep on now until some more or less natural time to change comes.

Alice keeps remarkably well—­since her influenza late in the winter; but a rest away from London is really needed as much by her as by me.  They work her to death.  In a little while she is to go, by the invitation of the Government and the consent of the King, to christen a new British warship at Newcastle.  It will be named the “Eagle.”  Meantime I’ll be trying to get outdoor life at Sandwich.

Yesterday a regiment of our National Army marched through the streets of London and were reviewed by the King and me; and the town made a great day of it.  While there is an undercurrent of complaint in certain sections of English opinion because we didn’t come into the war sooner, there is a very general and very genuine appreciation of everything we have done and of all that we do.  Nothing could be heartier than the welcome given our men here yesterday.  Nor could any men have made a braver or better showing than they made.  They made us all swell with pride.

They are coming over now, as you know, in great quantities.  There were about 8,000 landed here last week and about 30,000 more are expected this week.  I think that many more go direct to France than come through England.  On their way through England they do not come to London.  Only twice have we had them here, yesterday and one day last summer when we had a parade of a regiment of engineers.  For the army London is on a sidetrack—­is an out of the way place.  For our navy, of course, it’s the European headquarters, since Admiral Sims