We had a most comfortable journey from Turin--a lit-salon to ourselves, the maid just behind us. All the first hours were charming as long as we could see as all the country about Turin is so lovely. We passed Moncalieri which stands high on the hills--a long low building, and one or two other fine old castles, all perched high on the slope of the mountains. I always sleep so well in a train that I was hardly awake when we passed at Modane, though I was dimly conscious of the stop, the lanterns flashing along the train and a great deal of conversation. Nobody disturbed us as we had given our "laissez-passer" to the garde, but I fancy we made a long halt there as the train was very crowded. We had our coffee at Dijon very early in the morning. It was quite pleasant to see the regular little French brioche again. I went to tea with Mother and afterward we went for a turn in the Bois, which looked beautiful--so green--all the horse-chestnuts out (the road from Auteuil to Boulogne with the rows of red horse-chestnuts on each side quite enchanting); the hills, St. Cloud and Mont Valérien blue and standing out sharply against the sky, but I missed the delicious soft atmosphere of Italy and the haze that always hung around the hills and softened all the outlines. The Seine looked quite animated. There really were one or two small boats out, and near Puteaux (the club) some women rowing, and of course the little river steamers flying up and down, crowded. We are dining with l'Oncle Alphonse who will give us all the news of the day, and the opinion of the "Union." PART II ITALY REVISITED _To H. L. K._ ROME, Friday, February 12, 1904. It seems so strange to be back here, dear, after twenty-four years, and to find Rome so changed, so unchanged. The new quarter, an absolutely new modern city, might be Wiesbaden, or Neuilly, or any cheerful resort of retired business men who build hideous villas with all sorts of excrescences--busts, vases, and plaques of bright-coloured majolica--and the old city with the dirty little winding streets going toward St. Peter's exactly the same; almost the same little ragged, black-eyed children playing in the gutters.