houghtful attention of the landlord, we felt the
absence from dear home at this joyous time less than we might otherwise
have done. We had our _tete-a-tete_ dinner, and toasted our friends in
Old England, who probably included us in their "absent friends and dear
ones abroad."

My wife admired the handsome net mosquito curtains around our bed, but I
rather shuddered at the memories they awakened, having had some
experience of tropical climates--the river Zambezi, for instance, where
a single tiny insect of the Zebra species nearly drove me out of my
senses when suffering from fever. Probably, however, the mosquito only
visits Cannes in the summer, though my wife declared she heard a buzz,
and experienced a bite. It was certainly consolatory to think that I was
no longer considered tempting enough, by these insatiable torments.

The next morning we realized something of the beauty of Cannes. It was
so pleasant to dress by the open French windows, and enjoy the freshness
of the morning air, the warmth of the sun, and the delicious perfume of
the roses and orange blossoms rising from the gardens beneath. The birds
flitting about, with joyous song; the lovely blue sea in the distance;
and above, the cloudless sky. We felt in no hurry for breakfast, and in
imagination pictured to ourselves dear foggy London, cold and wet as we
had left it. This was indeed a grateful contrast!

When we did descend, however, our tea and toast were thoroughly enjoyed,
thanks to the appetizing air; and it was a pleasure to see our
fellow-guests sunning themselves in the gardens, and making plans for
the day's excursion and pleasure.

Cannes is essentially the beautiful and peaceful abode of the invalid,
whose desire is health. A few years since, it was a very small place
indeed, but can now boast of its sixty large hotels; and new roads and
boulevards are being opened in all directions. The Count de Chambord,[B]
and other lucky owners of property here, must feel highly gratified at
the rise in the value of land.

Cannes stretches along the sea-shore from north to south, and is
protected from the _mistral_ and other cold winds by the fine Esterel
mountain range. There is one long main street running parallel to the
beach, which contains many good shops and _cafes_. Some of the houses
are built in a line facing the sea, and divided from it by gardens and
promenades; others are clustered on the slope of the hill, which is
surmounted by a pictu