the precincts of the
West End, and began to feel an indefinite sense that we were approaching
something very grand, though I cannot say that we saw much but heavy,
smoky-walled buildings, washed by the rain. At length we stopped in
Grosvenor Place, and alighted.

We were shown into an anteroom adjoining the entrance hall, and from
that into an adjacent apartment, where we met Lord Carlisle. The room
had a pleasant, social air, warmed and enlivened by the blaze of a coal
fire and wax candles.

We had never, any of us, met Lord Carlisle before; but the
considerateness and cordiality of our reception obviated whatever
embarrassment there might have been in this circumstance. In a few
moments after we were all seated the servant announced the Duchess of
Sutherland, and Lord Carlisle presented me. She is tall and stately,
with a decided fulness of outline, and a most noble bearing. Her fair
complexion, blond hair, and full lips speak of Saxon blood. In her early
youth she might have been a Rowena. I thought of the lines of
Wordsworth:--

"A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, to command."

Her manners have a peculiar warmth and cordiality. One sees people now
and then who seem to _radiate_ kindness and vitality, and to have a
faculty of inspiring perfect confidence in a moment. There are no airs
of grandeur, no patronizing ways; but a genuine sincerity and kindliness
that seem to come from a deep fountain within.

The engraving by Winterhalter, which has been somewhat familiar in
America, is as just a representation of her air and bearing as could be
given.

After this we were presented to the various members of the Howard
family, which is a very numerous one. Among them were Lady Dover, Lady
Lascelles, and Lady Labouchere, sisters of the duchess. The Earl of
Burlington, who is the heir of the Duke of Devonshire, was also present.
The Duke of Devonshire is the uncle of Lord Carlisle.

The only person present not of the family connection was my quondam
correspondent in America, Arthur Helps. Somehow or other I had formed
the impression from his writings that he was a venerable sage of very
advanced years, who contemplated life as an aged hermit, from the door
of his cell. Conceive my surprise to find a genial young gentleman of
about twenty-five, who looked as if he might enjoy a joke as well as
another man.

At dinner I found myself between him and Lord Carlisle, and perceiving,
perhaps, that