and Lord Wilburton is a man who has been everywhere and seen everybody.
The fact that he wished to make my acquaintance shows, no doubt, that I
have sailed into his ken, and that he wishes to add me to his
collection. I felt myself singularly unrewarding. I am not a talker at
the best of times, and to feel that I am expected to be witty and
suggestive is the last straw. Lord Wilburton discoursed fluently and
agreeably. Lady Harriet said that she envied me my powers of writing,
and asked how I came to think of my last brilliant book, which she had
so enjoyed. I did not know what to say, and could not invent anything.
They made a great deal of the children. They walked round the garden.
They praised everything ingeniously. They could not say the house was
big, and so they called in convenient. They could not say that the
garden was ample, but Lord Wilburton said that he had never seen so
much ground go to the acre. That was neat enough. They made a great
point of visiting my library, and carried away my autograph, written
with the very same pen with which I wrote my great book. This they
called a privilege. They made us promise to go over to the Castle,
which I have no great purpose of doing. We parted with mutual goodwill,
and with that increase of geniality on my own part which comes on me at
the end of a visit. Altogether I did not dislike it, though it did not
seem to me particularly worth while. To-day my wife tells me that they
told the Fitzpatricks that it was a great pleasure seeing me, because I
was so modest and unaffected. That is a courteous way of concealing
their disappointment that I was not more brilliant. But, good heavens,
what did they expect? I suppose, indeed I have no doubt, that if I had
talked mysteriously about my book, and had described the genesis of it,
and my method of working, they would have preferred that. Just as in
reminiscences of the Duke of Wellington, the people who saw him in
later life seem to have been struck dumb by a sort of tearful
admiration at the sight of the Duke condescending to eat his dinner, or
to light a guest's bedroom candle. Perhaps if I had been more
simple-minded I should have talked frankly about myself. I don't know;
it seems to me all rather vulgar. But my visitors are kindly and
courteous people, and felt, I am sure, that they were both receiving
and conferring benefits. They will like to describe me and my house,
and they will feel that I am pleased at being rec