shall hear the applause. Ah, what applause!

Come into this little room--my favorite; out of _this_ window and down
these steps we can walk or drive to any place you or I have ever been
to, and other places besides. Nothing is far, and we have only to go
hand in hand. I don't know yet where my stables and coach-houses are;
you must help me to find out. But so far I have never lacked a carriage
at the bottom of those steps when I wanted to drive, nor a steam-launch,
nor a gondola, nor a lovely place to go to.

Out of _this_ window, from this divan, we can sit and gaze on whatever
we like. What shall it be? Just now, you perceive, there is a wild and
turbulent sea, with not a ship in sight. Do you hear the waves tumbling
and splashing, and see the albatross? I had been reading Keats's 'Ode to
the Nightingale,' and was so fascinated by the idea of a lattice opening
on the foam

'_Of perilous seas by faery lands forlorn_'

that I thought it would be nice to have a lattice like that myself. I
tried to evolve that sea from my inner consciousness, you know, or
rather from seas that I have sailed over. Do you like it? It was done a
fortnight ago, and the waves have been tumbling about ever since. How
they roar! and hark at the wind! I couldn't manage the 'faery lands.' It
wants one lattice for the sea, and one for the land, I'm afraid. You
must help me. Mean while, what would you like there tonight--the
Yosemite Valley? the Nevski Prospect in the winter, with the sledges?
the Rialto? the Bay of Naples after sunset, with Vesuvius in eruption?...

--"Oh Mary--Mimsey--what do I care for Vesuvius, and sunsets, and the