in the appearance of John Leech. Shirley Brooks afterwards
had occasion to notice that at this _Punch_ dinner he "complained of
illness and pain, and I saw that it was difficult to make him
completely grasp the meaning of things that were said to him without two
or three repetitions. He left early with Tom Taylor."[166] On the 28th
of October, the artist himself was conscious that something was wrong.
He visited Dr. Quain, who assured him that his only chance lay in
complete and entire rest; and, on returning home, he wrote a note in
pencil addressed to his old friend, Mr. Frederick Evans, in which he
mentioned his interview with the medical man, and added that he hoped to
complete a cut for which a messenger was to be sent, but that he was not
sure of being able to finish it. A messenger was sent in obedience to
his desire, but he returned empty-handed. We return at this point to the
diary of Mr. Shirley Brooks. "I called," he says (29th of October), "at
27, Bouverie Street, and heard from Evans that he was very ill. We went
off to the Terrace, Kensington. He was in bed, but no one seemed
frightened, and there was a child's party--a small one. Mrs. Leech was
in tears, but certainly had no reason to apprehend the worst. He would
have seen us. We remained three-quarters of an hour or so, but an opiate
had been given, so it was of course felt that he ought not to be
disturbed. Arranged to meet Evans at three next day;" but the fatal
messenger, who will call for each and every of us, had already delivered
his summons, and never more (in life) were either of the friends fated
to see John Leech again. "At seven o'clock that night," continues the
narrator (in another place[167]), "it pleased God to release him from
sufferings so severe as even to make the brave, patient, enduring man
say that they were almost more than he could bear."
Mr. Evans called on Brooks the following day (Sunday, 30th October).
"After hearing all he could say, I went with him to telegraph to Mark
Lemon, and also to Leech's. Millais and Leigh at the door--heard much
from them. Mrs. Chester came up--Charles Eaton, Mrs. Leech's brother and
best friend, had come. We went in and saw him ... and the poor mother,
and two of the sisters, and afterwards to the chamber of death. He
looked noble in his calm; the hair and whiskers put back, gave up his
fine forehead and handsome features--and the eternal stillness gave his
face an elevated expression. I looked a
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