I am staying in bed until lunch as I had a heavy day yesterday buying small presents to bring back and so on. Exhausting work because one gets so frightfully excited as well. C. went with me in the morning and bought me an antique brooch, very lovely; three stones set in silver. page 32 Then she bought me a pastel blue muslin frock with frills like panniers at the side. Ida, who was by, said she thought C. had a very bad influence on me because she spoiled me so. And the poor old dear got pink just like Granma used to and said, “Well, the child has had no fun, no life, no chance to wear pretty things for two years. I'm sure J. would want to do what I'm doing …” You remember in Italy how I longed to return to Life with all kinds of lovely possessions. Funny it should have all come true. I also bought the most exquisite fruit plates with small white grapes and gold leaves on them pour la famille Murry, and a dish, high, to match, to take the breath. I've no money. I think I must be a little bit mad. Oh, could I bring the flowers, the air the whole heavenly climate as well: this darling little town, these mountains— It is simply a small jewel—Mentone … and its band in the jardins publique with the ruffled pansy beds—the white donkeys standing meek, tied to a pole, the donkey women in black pleated dresses with flat funny hats. All, all is so terribly attractive. I'd live years here with you. I'm immensely attached to it all and in the summer we'd go up to the Alpes Maritimes and live in the small spotless inns with milk hot from the cow and eggwegs from the hen—we'd live in those steep villages of pink and white houses with the pine forests round them—where your host serves your dinner wearing a clean white blouse and sabots. Yes, I'm in love with the Alpes Maritimes. I don't want to go any further. I'd like to live my life between Broomies and them.