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In the early morning, after admiring the sea overhung by a
cloudless sky and once more thanking the Duchess in his heart for such
a delightful residence when he might have been boxed up in some stuffy
hotel bedroom, he descended to the beach for his morning bathe. Such
was his custom. The swim did him good, it freshened him up.
Then back to breakfast and a busy morning's work, to settle up arrears
of correspondence. He wrote to various friends in England; he wrote a
long letter--the third since his arrival--to his mother, telling her of
all such things as might interest her; a nice gossipy letter, full of
information about the entertainments of the foreigners on Nepenthe,
about the obliging natives, the Russian colony, the persistent sirocco,
his own domestic life, his improved health. Much as he liked the place
and people, he said, he expected to be leaving in a week or so. He
concluded with two pages describing his last visit to his cousin. She
was rather poorly or troubled in mind, he thought; he would see her
again ere long.


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