It was beautiful this morning, so I took my convenient tram again and went over to see the pictures of the Vatican. Such a typical peasant couple were in the tram, evidently just down from the mountains, as they were looking about at everything, and were rather nervous when the tram made a sudden stop. The woman (young and rather pretty) had on a bright blue skirt, a white shirt with a red corset over it, a pink flowered apron, green fichu on her head, and long gold ear-rings with a coral centre. The man, a big broad-shouldered fellow, had the long cloak with the cape lined with green that the men all wear here, and a slouched hat drawn low down over his brows. They got out at St. Peter's and went into the church. I went around by the Colonnade as I was going to the pictures. There were lots of people on the stairs. It certainly is a good stiff pull up. I stayed about an hour looking at the pictures--all hanging exactly where I had always seen them, except the Sposalizio of St. Catherine, which was on an easel near the window; some one evidently copying it. I was quite horrified coming back through the Stanze by some English people--three women--who were calmly lunching in one corner of the room. They were all seated, eating sandwiches out of a paper bag, and drinking out of a large green bottle. Everybody stopped and looked at them, and they didn't mind at all. The gardien was looking on like all the rest. I was so astounded at his making no remarks that I said to him, surely such a thing is forbidden; to which he replied smilingly: "No--no, non fanno male a nessnno--non fanno niente d'indecente" (No, they are doing no harm to any one, they are doing nothing indecent). That evidently was quite true; but I must say I think it required a certain courage to continue their repast with all the public looking on, giggling and criticising freely. I dined this evening with Malcolm Kahn--Persian Minister--and an old colleague of ours in London. It was very pleasant--General Brusatti, one of the King's Aides-de-Camp, took me in, and I had Comte Greppi, ancien Ambassadeur, on the other side. Greppi is marvellous--really a very old man, but as straight as an arrow, and remembering everybody. Tittone, Minister of Foreign Affairs, was there, but I wasn't near him at table, which I regretted, as I should have liked to talk to him. Palm Sunday, March 27th.