. But things are altered now in Menton."

"Are we to call the place Menton or Mentone?" asked Janet. "We might as
well come to some decision."

"Menton is correct," said the Professor; "it is now a French town."

"Oh no! let us keep to the dear old names, and say Men-to-ne," said Mrs.
Clary.

"_I_ have even heard it pronounced to rhyme with bone," said Verney,
smiling. Inness and Baker now looked at each other, and fell behind, but
after a few minutes they came forward again, and, advancing to the
front, faced us, and delivered the following epic:

Inness:

"What shall we call thee? Shall we give our own
Plain English vowels to thee, fair Mentone?"

[Illustration: THE PROFESSOR DISCOURSES]

Baker:

"Or shall we yield thee back thy patrimony,
The lost Italian sweetness of Mentone?"

Inness:

"Or, with French accent, and the n's half gone,
Try the Parisian syllables--Men-ton?"

We all applauded their impromptu. The Professor, seeing that poetry held
the field, walked apart musingly. I think he was trying to recall, but
without success, an appropriate Latin quotation.

The view from the point above Mortola is very beautiful. On the west,
Mentone with its three spires, the green of Cap Martin; and beyond, the
bold dark forehead of the Dog's Head rising above Monaco.

"Do you see that blue line of coast?" said Verney. "That is the island
where lived the Man with the Iron Mask."

"Bazaine was confined there also," said the Professor.

But none of us cared for Bazaine. We began to talk about the Mask, and
then diverged to Kaspar Hauser, finally ending with Eleazer Williams, of
"Have we a Bourbon among us?" who had to be explained to the Englishmen.
It was some time before we came back to the view; but all the while
there it was before us, and we were unconsciously enjoying it. On the
east was, first, the little village of Mortola at our feet; then
fortified Ventimiglia; and beyond, Bordighera, gleaming whitely on its
low point out in the blue sea.

"Blanche Bordighera," said Mrs. Clary; "it is to me like
paradise--always silvery and fair. No matter where you go, there it is;
whether you look from Cap Martin or St. Agnese, from Ciotti or
Roccabruna, you can always see Bordighera shining in the sunlight. Even
when there is a mist, so that Mentone itself is veiled and Ventimiglia
lost, Bordighera can be seen gleaming whitely through. And finally you
end by not wantin