THE IONIAN ISLES 39

see Nausicaa. I had no desire to see her mummified in
a coffin like Saint Spiridion. I wanted her with some
life in her eye and grace in her limbs. Is it unreas-
onable to ask a girl to keep her youth for twenty-five
or thirty centuries? If the fountain of perpetual
youth is to be found anywhere, is it not in this land
of fruit and flowers?

We applied at the old residence, but the princess
had moved. The garden was blooming, but where
was the maid? I felt confident that we must go to
some of the wash pools to find her. Gastouri, a
suburb of the town, is renowned for the beauty of its
women, — why not there ? Mavilla declares that " the
drives on the island of Corfu arc beyond the power
of pen or camera," which may be a gentle hint to me
that / must not attempt to describe them. " Even
the warmth of the painter's brush is unsatisfactory.
The sweetness of the air, the delicious heat of the
November sun, and the fascination of being there are
inseparable." Nevertheless, Mavilla would have been
sorry enough if I had not taken my camera. Per-
haps the hint, after all, is that I had better quote from
her diary instead of trying to improve on it:

"We saw but few people as we drove toward the
Empress of Austria's summer palace. One or two
little whitewashed cottages basked in sunny gardens.
Under the trees by the roadside were shepherds with
their flocks, idle and peaceful, as if life contained
neither care nor worry. In front of a group of tiny
cottages sat three old women, spinning in the sun-
shine. I was sure that they were the sister Fates,
and so looked anxiously for the shears. Evidently