ould willingly have remained, but now he
longed to get back to London. His life had lost its joys. The success of
his Liverpool picture was almost as nothing to him, and the enthusiastic
reception given to his book gave him not more than a passing pleasure,
though he was deeply touched by the sympathetic and exhaustive criticism
published by Professor Dowden in _The Academy_, as well as by Professor
Colvin's friendly monograph in _The World_. At length one night, a month
after our arrival, we set out on our return, and well do I remember the
pathos of his words as I helped him (now feebler than ever) into his
house. "Thank God! home at last, and never shall I leave it again!"

Very natural was the deep concern of his friends, especially of his
brother and Mr. Shields, at finding him return even less well than he
had set out. With deeper reliance on past knowledge of the man, Mr.
Watts still took a hopeful view, attributing the physical prostration
to hypochondriasis, which might, in common with all similar nervous
ailments, impose as much pain upon the victim as if the sufferings
complained of had a real foundation in positive disease, but might
also give way at any moment when the victim could be induced to take
a hopeful view of life. The cheerfulness of Mr. Watts's society, after
what I well know must have been the lugubrious nature of my own, had at
first its usual salutary effect upon Rossetti's spirits, and I will not
forbear to say that I, too, welcomed it as a draught of healing morning
air after a month-long imprisonment in an atmosphere of gloom. But I
was not yet freed of my charge. The sense of responsibility which in the
solitude of the mountains had weighed me down, was now indeed divided
with his affectionate family and the friends who were Rossetti's friends
before they were mine, and who came at this juncture with willing
help, prompted chiefly, of course, by devotion to the great man in sore
trouble, but also--I must allow myself to think--in one or two cases by
desire to relieve me of some of the burden of the task that had fallen
so unexpectedly upon me. Foremost among such disinterested friends was
of course the friend I have spoken of so frequently in these pages,
and for whom I now felt a growing regard arising as much out of my
perception of the loyalty of his comradeship as the splendour of his
gifts. But after him in solicitous service to Rossetti, at this
moment of great need, came Frederick Sh