out into the water. The sea is always the most beautiful thing in the world to me; perhaps I love it even better than the sky. In all Naples it is the sea that gives me most pleasure; everything seems delightful if I can only see the broad expanse of waters before me. At Terracina is the real beginning of the South. It is another country, and every plant, every bit of bush makes one aware of it. Two great masses of mountain specially pleased me, not a tree or a shadow was to be seen on them, but they were covered with little blossoms like gold dust, so that they looked all yellow and the smell was almost overpowering. There is great lack of tall trees and grass. Fondi and Itri are perched up like robbers’ nests on the rocks, to which the houses seem to cling desperately; great mediæval towers stand between them; on the height were numbers of sentinels and pickets, but we got through without adventure. That evening we stopped at Mola di Gaeta, where there is the famous balcony, from which one looks over the garden of citron and orange to the purple sea, with Vesuvius and its islands in the far distance. That was the eleventh of April; all day I had been keeping the festival privately, and in the evening I was able to confide to the company that it was your birthday, and your health was drunk with acclamation, indeed an old English gentleman who was there joined in and wished me “a happy return to my sister.” I emptied my glass and thought of you. Do not be changed when we meet again.
