travelers of her
time, made a visit to the home of her favorite, Sidney, and the drawing
room which she honored as a guest is still shown, with much of the
handsome furniture which was especially made for the occasion of Her
Majesty's visit. On the walls are some examples of beautifully wrought
needlework and satin tapestry which tradition says is the work of the
queen herself and her maidens. In the picture gallery the majority of
the paintings are portraits of the Sidney family.

From Penshurst we returned to Tunbridge Wells, having covered in all
about one hundred miles since leaving that town--not a very long
distance for a day's motoring, but we had seen more things of interest,
perhaps, than on any other day of our tour. It was a fitting close to
our tour, since we had determined that we would at once return to London
and bid farewell to the English highways and byways. The next morning we
spent a short time looking about Tunbridge Wells. This town has been
known as a watering place since 1606 and has maintained great popularity
ever since. Its unique feature is the promenade, known as "The
Pantiles," with its row of stately lime trees in the center and its
colonade in front of the shops. It is referred to in Thackeray's
"Virginians," and readers of that story will recall his description of
the scenes on the Pantiles in the time of the powdered wigs, silver
buckles and the fearful and wonderful "hoop." Tunbridge Wells makes a
splendid center for several excursions and one might well spend
considerable time there. Our trip of the previous day had taken us at no
time more than thirty miles from the town and had covered only a few of
the most interesting places within that distance.

We were ready to leave Tunbridge Wells before noon, and it was with
feelings of mingled satisfaction and regret that we turned toward
London, about thirty miles away. Our long summer's pilgrimage through
Britain was over. Despite our anxiety to return home, there was, after
all, a sense of regret that we had left undone much that would have been
well worth while. Our last day on the English country roads was a lovely
one. A light rain had fallen the night before, just enough to beat down
the dust and freshen the landscape. We passed through a country thickly
interspersed with suburban towns. The fields had much the appearance of
a well kept park, and everything conspired to make the day a pleasant
recollection.

When we came into the