A Warm Bath

Last night, while Mama played cards, I went to the theatre and slept through the entire play, which is a measure of how good the spa in Gastein is or how bad the play was - I am not sure which. I had spent the afternoon at the baths and dipped my feet into the warm water with my puffbox and handkerchief in a little tray that was tied to my waist. It kept floating out in front of me as I tried to remember an Italian madrigal about love. My mind was drawn to a number of ladies all around me, smiling in that half way at each other as people do when they don't know another soul. We retired to the assembly room to share our gossip but unfortunately, there was very little in the way of wickedness. N.