ps in the catacombs, and
here the atmosphere seemed to be principally cracks. But the Professor
brought up the flagellants who might have been there, and they remained
up until we reached our destination. We decided that the cracking of
whips and the wash of the sea were the especial sounds of Mentone; but
the whips ceased at nightfall, and the waves kept on, making a soft
murmurous sound which lulled us all to restful slumber. We learned later
that all vehicles are obliged, by orders from the town authorities, to
proceed at a snail's pace through the narrow street of the "old town,"
the city treasury not being rich enough to pay for the number of wooden
legs and arms which would be required were this rule disregarded.

[Illustration: AT MENTONE]

The next morning when we opened our windows there entered the
Mediterranean Sea. It is the bluest water in the world; not a clear cold
blue like that of the Swiss lakes, but a soft warm tint like that of
June sky, shading off on the horizon, not into darker blue or gray,
but into the white of opal and mother-of-pearl. With the sea came in
also the sunshine. The sunshine of Mentone is its glory, its riches, its
especial endowment. Day follows day, month follows month, without a
cloud; the air is pure and dry, fog is unknown. "The sun never stops
shining;" and to show that this idea, which soon takes possession of one
there, is not without some foundation, it can be stated that the average
number of days upon which the sun does shine, as the phrase is, all day
long is two hundred and fifty-nine; that is, almost nine months out of
the twelve. "All the world is cheered by the sun," writes Shakespeare;
and certainly "cheer" is the word that best expresses the effect of the
constant sunshine of Mentone.

We all came to breakfast with unclouded foreheads; even the three fixed
wrinkles which crossed Mrs. Trescott's brow (she always alluded to them
as "midnight oil") were not so deep as usual, and her little countenance
looked as though it had been, if not ironed, at least smoothed out by
the long sleep in the soft air. She floated into the sunny
breakfast-room in an aureola of white lace, with Janet beside her, and
followed by Inness and Baker. Margaret and I had entered a moment before
with Miss Graves, and presently Professor Mackenzie joined us, radiating
intelligence through his shining spectacles to that extent that I
immediately prepared myself for the "Indeeds?" "Is it possib