f my Riviera days were spent in a villa
across the Golfe de la Napoule from Cannes. Not infrequently our baby
Hope gave us the privilege of seeing Cannes by sunrise. We ate and
worked on a terrace below our bedroom windows. Every evening we
watched Cannes disappear or become fairyland in the moonlight.

What we saw from the Villa Etoile was the Golfe de la Napoule from the
Pointe de l'Esquillon to the Cap de la Croisette. The Corniche de
l'Esterel rounded the Esquillon and came down to sea level at Theoule
through a forest of pines. It passed our villa. The curve of the gulf
between us and Cannes was only seven miles. First came La Napoule,
above whose old tower on the sea rose a hill crowned with the ruins of
a chapel. A viaduct with narrow arches carried the railway across the
last ravine of the Esterel. In the plain, between two little rivers,
the Siagne and the Riou, was a grove of umbrella pines. Here began the
Boulevard Jean Hibert, protected by a sea-wall in concrete, leading
into Cannes. The town of Cannes, flanked on the left by Mont Chevalier
and on the right by La Croisette, displayed a solid mass of hotels on
the water front. Red-roofed villas climbed to Le Cannet and La
Californie, elbowing each other in the town and scattering in the
suburbs until the upper villas were almost lost in foliage. Behind
were the Maritime Alps. Not far beyond La Croisette, the Cap d'Antibes
jutted out into the sea. At night the lighthouses of Cannes and
Antibes flashed alternately red and green, and between them Cannes
sparkled. Inland to the left of Cannes were Mougins on a hill and
Grasse above on the mountain side. Occasional trails of smoke marked
the main line of the railway along the coast and the branch line from
Cannes to Grasse. In the sea lay the Iles de Lerins, Sainte-Marguerite
almost touching the point of La Croisette.

[Illustration: "La Napoule, above whose tower on the sea rose a hill
crowned with the ruins of a chapel. Behind were the Maritime Alps."]

But unlike the Prince, we did have a chance to see Cannes at other
angles. Cannes was the metropolis to which we went hopefully to hire
cooks, find amusement, and buy food and drink. Theoule had neither
stores nor cafes, and after the Artist came we were glad to vary the
monotony of suburban life. It is always that way with city folk. How
wonderful the quiet, how delightful the seclusion of the "real
country"! But after a few weeks, whil