_January 28_.

My darling Min,--

You were a saucy girl to chaff me like that about the Honourable Mr.
Winston. It didn't matter one bit to _me_ whether we got to know him or
not. Why should it? Even when he comes into the title he'll only be a
viscount, and Lord Brighthelmston may live for _years_. It wasn't to
meet him that we joined the viscountess, though I shouldn't wonder if
she had something up her sleeve when she asked us to meet her in Cannes.
Anyway, she'd taken a tremendous fancy to me. We got on awfully well
together at first, but she needs a lot of living up to, and if she
hadn't held a sort of _salon_ everywhere we've been, with all kinds of
swells, home-made and foreign, kootooing to her, and being introduced to
us, I don't know but I should have persuaded Pa to drop the whole
business long ago. She's a nice old lady, but sometimes, when you let
yourself go, and are having a ripping time, she freezes up and looks at
you as if you were some unknown species of animal in the Zoo. That's
what I mean when I say she wants a lot of living up to; and more than
once in the last two months or so I'd have given my boots if Pa and I
hadn't bound ourselves to travel about with her, but had gone off on our
own, with a courier, like that handsome one I sent you the snapshot of
with the Yankee girl at Blois. Well, anyhow, it's all come to an end
now; and she's introduced us to dozens of smart people, so there's
nothing to regret.

Pa and I are going back to Naples to-morrow or the day after, and so
home to England. Give me London! I'm dying for a good game of ping pong.
I asked them to get it at the Grand Hotel in Rome, but the silly things
didn't. Addie Johnson has written and asked me to a swell dance she's
giving at the Kensington Town Hall; I hope we can get back in time; and
I may be able to take a charming cavalier with me. But I'll tell you
about him later. We've been having scenes of great excitement for the
last few days, which have helped me to get through the time in Sicily,
which otherwise would have been pretty slow, as I don't care for
country, abroad or at home. Besides, the oranges and lemons keep falling
on your head, and at night you have to throw gravel at the nightingales
to keep the noisy creatures still. I collected some on purpose.

Well, I told you how vexed Lady B. was because "Jack," as she calls him,
couldn't get to Cannes. He was always writing from different place