PETROGRADMrs. Wynne, Mr. Bevan, and I left London for Russia on October 16, 1915. We are attached provisionally to the Anglo-Russian hospital, witha stipulation that we are at liberty to proceed to the front with our ambu-lances as soon as we can get permission to do so. We understand that theRussian wounded are suffering terribly, and getting no doctors, nurses, orfield ambulances. We crossed from Newcastle to Christiania in a Norwegianboat, the Bessheim. It was supposed that in this ship there was less chance ofbeing stopped, torpedoed, or otherwise inconvenienced.We reached Christiania after a wonderfully calm crossing, and went to theGrand Hotel at 1 a.m. No rooms to be had, so we went on to the Victoria-agood old house, not fashionable, but with a nice air about it, and some solidcomforts. We left on Wednesday, the 20th, at 7 a.m. This was something ofa feat, as we have twenty-four boxes with us. I only claim four, and feel as ifI might have brought more, but everyone has a different way of travelling, and luggage is often objected to.3 S. (SARAH) MACNAUGHTANIndeed, I think this matter of travelling is one of the most curious in theworld. I cannot understand why it is that to get into a train or a boat causesmen and women to leave off restraint and to act in a primitive way. Whyshould the companionship of the open road be the supreme test of friend-ship? and why should one feel a certain fear of getting to know people toowell on a journey? The last friends I travelled with were very careful indeed, and we used to reckon up accounts and divide the price of a bottle of "vinordinaire" equally. My friends to-day seem inclined to do themselves verywell, and to scatter largesse everywhere.[Page Heading: STOCKHOLM]Stockholm. 21 October.-After a long day in the train we reached Stockholmyesterday evening, and went to the usual "Grand Hotel." This time it isvery "grand," and very expensive. Mr. Bevan has a terrible pink boudoir-bedroom, which costs L3 per night, and I have a small room on the fourthfloor, which costs 17s. 6d. without a bath. There is rather a nice court in themiddle of the house, with flowers and a band and tables for dinner, but thesight of everyone "doing himself well" always makes me feel a little sick. Thewines and liqueurs, and the big cigars at two shillings each, and the look ofrepletion on men's faces as they listen to the band after being fed, somewhatdisgust me.One's instinct is to dislike luxury, but in war-time it seems horrible. We our-selves will probably have to rough it badly soon, so I don't mind, but it'sa side of life that seems to me as beastly as anything I know. Fortunately, the luxury of an hotel is minimised by the fact that there are no "neces-saries," and one lives in an atmosphere of open trunks and bags, with thingspulled out of them, which counterbalances crystal electric fittings and mar-ble floors.We rested all this morning, lunched out, and in the afternoon went