e, 1915.

MY DEAREST, DEAREST, DEAREST:

I planned to get to Paris late Christmas night. I cabled Frazier at the
Embassy, to have all my letters at the Hotel de l'Empire. I MEANT to
spend the night reading of you and Hope. I made a record trip from
Salonica. By leaving the second steamer at Messina and taking an
eighteen-hour trip across Italy I saved ten hours. But when I got here
I found the French Consul had taken a holiday, AND WAS OUT BUYING
CHRISTMAS PRESENTS! So, I could not get permission to enter France.
With some Red Cross Americans, I raged around the French Consulate, but
it was no use. So I am here, and cannot leave UNTIL MIDNIGHT
CHRISTMAS. When I found I could not get away, I told Cook's to give me
their rapid-fire guide, and I set out to SEE ROME. The Manager of
Cook's was the same man who, 19 years ago, sold me tickets to the Greek
war in Florence, when the American Consulate was in the same building
with Cook's, and Charley was Consul. So he gave me a great guide. We
began at ten this morning and we stopped at six. They say it takes
five years to see Rome, but when I let the rapid-fire guide escape, he
said he had to compliment me; we climbed more stairways and hills than
there are in all New York and Westchester County; and there is just one
idea in my mind, and that is that you and I must see this sacred place
together. On all this trip I have wanted YOU, but NEVER so as today.
And I particularly inquired about the milk. It is said to be
excellent. So we will come here, and you, with all your love of what
is fine and beautiful, will be very happy, and Hope will learn Italian,
and to know what is best in art, and statues and churches. I have seen
2900 churches, and all of them built by Michael Angelo and decorated by
Raphael; and it was so wonderful I cried. I bought candles and
prayers, and I am afraid Christian Science had a dull day. Tomorrow we
start at nine, and go to high mass at St. Peter's, and then into the
country to the catacombs, where the early Christians hid from the
Romans. It is not what you would call an English Christmas, but it is
so beautiful and wonderful that you BOTH ARE VERY NEAR.

I sent you a cable, the second one, because it is not sure they are
forwarded, and I hung up a stocking for Hope. One of the peasant women
made in Salonica. I am bringing it with me. And the cat is on my
window--still looking out on the Romans. The green leaf I got in the
for