The other letter was delightful and ran as follows:
"Dear Mr. Clarke-Stuart:
"I was indeed glad to receive your charming letter and to know that my little notice had cheered the aching heart of a lonely subaltern. I am now learning to knit and soon, very soon, I shall send you some socks which will have been knitted by a hand, an inexperienced hand, alas, but one that is interested in you. I have not as yet made any cakes, but indeed I will try, and most certainly I will send you a photograph of myself. I am a blonde with blue eyes but am not very tall, in fact, I am but five feet two inches high. Are you fair or dark? Something seems to tell me that you are very dark with brown eyes. Am I right? I am sure that you are tall and slenderly though gracefully built.
"I should be awfully glad to receive a photograph of you. Officers' photographs lend tone to a girl's rooms these days, even if one does not know them.
"Up to the present my life has been an empty one, consisting of teas, dinners, theatre parties, and so on; but now with you to look after I am sure that things will change.
"I was interested in your little verse. It reminds me very much of the great poet who contributes verse to the London Daily Fog each Saturday. You perhaps know him. I shall look forward with interest to your sonnet.
"Yours very sincerely,
"Rosalie De Silva."
Rosalie's letter was written on pink paper and was enclosed in a large pink envelope with a large "S" on the top right hand corner. We therefore sent her letter on to the major and Taunton by a special orderly.
It would take me a long time to tell you of the correspondence that ensued. Wet cakes, dry cakes, pink socks, green socks, purple socks, as well as a photograph arrived in quick succession. The photograph was mounted on a large cardboard and was always regarded with great interest by the officers who dropped in to see us. All our friends knew about the correspondence, and they had all been taken into the confidence of Wharton and myself except Taunton and the major.
One day the photograph came unstuck and we discovered written upon the back of it the following words: "This is a true photograph of Miss Iris Hoey."