Esther.

XXII
FROM MARJORIE

Villa Valérie, Val André, par Pleneuf, Côtes-du-Nord,

August 7, 1917.

Dearest Mother:—

Back to the country is my cry! Simple life, and, therefore, simple paper. We bought this at Pleneuf the day before yesterday, when for the second time we tooted over there to get our papers signed, only to find that the Mairie closes at eleven and at four! Since then we have decided that it is easier to let the paper question slide, as long as the Mairie has such inconvenient hours!

We certainly are the luckiest crew that ever sailed! Here we are comfortably settled in a nice little villa, with all the comforts of home and none of the responsibilities, for the maids (Miss Curtis’s and Miss Sturgis’s) take all of that, and all we have to do is to eat the excellent food which is offered us and sleep and loaf all day long. We have all wanted to go off for the month together, but have not known where to go nor how to get there; so we sat around and waited for something to happen, and sure enough, a friend offered us this villa. We just grabbed it, and came down a week ago to-morrow. I simply cannot believe that we are in France. Paris, refugees, jitney Fords, and work seem so far away. We are certainly leading a healthy life, and, if we do not all go back to Paris with a healthy burn and lots of energy, it will not be the fault of the wonderful air and, I might say, sea, down here. I do not think that any of us realized how tired we were until we arrived. Since then we have taken things easy.

We breakfast any time after 9 A.M., and we babies (Rootie and myself) have an egg for breakfast. That does not sound like anything to you, but it means a lot to us—nice, fresh eggs that are brought in by a girl who makes me think of Josey, she is so persistent; the poor hens hardly have time to lay, she is looking for the eggs so constantly! Also we have our coffee more like American citizens! No more boiled milk for us; also toasted bread. We find that the bread here is very good, and particularly so when toasted. After breakfast, we all sit around and plan what is to happen. Usually Miss Sturgis and Miss Curtis and Miss Buchanan go off to paint, leaving Rootie and myself. We try to write a few letters, but it is awfully hard, with all the things we want to talk over now that we have the time, and with the delightful peasant women cutting the hay and doing the gardening right under our windows. Also there is always Marthe, very different, very quiet and gentle, and quite reconciled to our queer ways; but Marthe cannot get over the “Demoiselles” putting butter on fried potatoes! However, she brushes our clothes so hard and so faithfully that it makes me wish I had brought my suit down to be cared for by her.

Luncheon comes at 12.30, or whatever time we get home. We have a way of just running up to the top of the hill for one peep at the sea at 12.15, which gives us great joy, and does not seem to bother the maids. We eat on the porch, all covered with honeysuckle, roses, and with a beautiful fig tree just outside.

The war seems very far away down here. There is a hospital in the village, but otherwise than that one can hardly believe that while we are loafing and playing down here, men are being slaughtered at the front, which, after all, is not too far away! I told you that Miss Curtis went over to the Red Cross, for they offered her a splendid position in just the line of work she is most interested in, and, of course, Mrs. Shurtleff wouldn’t have her stay with our little work when she has the chance to be part, and an important part, of such a big one. She is to take charge of the reconstructing of four devastated villages, which are to be models to the rest which the Red Cross expect to do later. She goes up from here on the 13th, and, after she gets her papers, will go to the villages in question and live there, working among the people, planning how to get the village on its feet again. All her work is to be with the view to making recommendations in the future to other committees who will do the same work. The Red Cross is to work through existing organizations, and to make recommendations and give money to workers who will be capable of reorganizing these villages. Miss Curtis will have a wonderful experience, won’t she? She is taking Miss Sturgis with her, which is rather a gloom for us, for I do not believe that we will ever see either of them at 18 rue Ernest Cresson again, for they are wavering about going home this winter. Also, of course, the Red Cross will work in many other fields, but this reconstruction is one of the most important.