Italian Days and Ways

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and noble background of blue mountains. Indeed, I confess to some qualms of conscience, feeling that I may have given you a too gloomy pictu

l with the famous Cornice Drive, which was for many years the only road from Genoa to Nice. The beauty of this drive, which lies sometimes between the railroad and the sea and again ascends the

hine, much as she wished to drive over the self-same road taken by her dear Lucy in "Doctor Antonio," hesitated about imperilling her neck, and I was quite resolute upon this point. An

irting the sapphire sea, dotted here and there with green islands. Reaching far out into the blue, one may see small towns which seem bent upon washing their white houses to a more dazzling whiteness in the clear water, painted towns against a painted sea and s

is held in place by stone walls, one above another, until some are almost mountain high, olive-trees growing to the very top. On the sunny plains between the hills are acres of carnations, violets, stock-gillies, and mignonette, which fill the

were to part company for a few days. Off to the right we could see the picturesque ruins of Bussana Vecchia, destroyed by an earthquake as l

retty villas, the waving palms, and the general air of cultivation and bien-être that belong to this favorite and highly favored town. When Zelphine and Angela

ends. Genevra's welcome, as you may believe, was of the warmest. It is delightful to be in a home again, af

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thing we have in America, where the apartments are on a scale of princely magnificence, with prices to match, or of a simplicity so extreme that "flat" seems to designate appropriately both them and the condition of those who inhabit them. This apartment is really a house on one floor; the entrance and

ugh except when the winters are unusually cold. The English ladies who come to tea in the after

drawing-room, although I know that Lucie and Marthe are piling on extra

y restful. When I awake in the morning I touch a bell, which soon brings to my bedside the trim, neat-handed Lucie with rol

ess extravagance?" I call out to G

the rate of two soldi a bunch!" Wasn't that like Genevra?-like the old Genevra, yet with a certain grace learned from these charming Italians! Only half believing her, an

ar which Battista rowed Lucy's boat while Antonio told Sir John how cleverly the valiant citizens of Bordighera had here outwitted the British in their brig-of-war. And on this road the Doctor walked home by moonlight, after an evening with Sir John and Lucy, singing "O bell' alma innamorata!" Poor, dear, brave Antonio-love, dear love, treated him shabbily enough! Your mother will remember reading this story to m

nd its light-house; beyond is the long, low line of the French shore, and still beyond, the Maritime Alps, with flecks of snow upon their sides, while near us, at our feet, lies the bay of Ospedaletti, sparkling in the sun. Bordighera is literally framed in by palm-trees-palms to ri

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n wandering through the old quarter of San Remo, with Roger and Ph?be by my side. Here are narrow, precipitous streets like those of Genoa, in strong contrast with the gay walk by the sea, which has all the charac

done, picturesquely, if somewhat laboriously, in the open. The lavandaie are, most of them, vigorous young creatures, and as they beat the clothes against t

o be envied of princes. Dr. A., Genevra's physician, tells me that the peasants here are usually healthy and the children as robust as they are handsome. This Italian gentleman is one of the interesting characters of San Remo. I always feel like calling him Doctor Antonio, for although Dr. A. h

moteness from the life of to-day. If you were here you would certainly explore the remains of this old town, and perhaps you would take me with you through its silent streets. Just now fate seems to be against my

ck, which overhangs a sheer declivity of many feet. In the church there is a collection of curious pictures, votive offerings, representing men and women in the midst of deadly peril by field and flood: fishermen in boats tossing upon stormy seas, and carriage-loads of pleasure-seekers pitching down prec

en upon earthly shores. If we make the trip in an automobile, which we shall probably do, we shall have a couple of hours to spend here with Genevra en route for Genoa, which anticipation helps to console her for her disappointment in losing two days of my visit. She will then be able to judge for herself whether Angela is as pretty as I have described her and whether Zelphine is as charming with white hair as with brown, questions that may seem of little moment to the masculine mind, but are deeply interesting to Genevra. She will be calling me soon to join her at what Macaulay calls "the curling hour," which we count the best in the twenty-four. Lucie heaps up the olive-wood on the heart

-if the long

while wast

limbing over