thful to its tenets. It could be said of her that,
though, in the world, she was not of the world. Owing to force of
circumstances, she had at times to take her position in the world, and
no one could do it with greater dignity, or more winning grace; but the
atmosphere of London, both physical and social, was distasteful to her.
She had an idea that the smoke-laden London air affected her lungs,
and, apart from the pleasure of seeing the survivors of the very
intimate circle of friends of her young days, London had few
attractions for her; all her interests were centred in the country, in
country people, and country things. Although deeply religious, her
religion had no gloom about it, for her inextinguishable love of a
joke, and irrepressible sense of fun, remained with her to the end of
her life, and kept her young in spite of her ninety-three years. From
the commencement of her married life, my mother had been in the habit
of "visiting" in the village twice a week, and in every cottage she was
welcomed as a friend, for in addition to her gift of sympathy, she had
a memory almost as tenacious as my father's, and remembered the names
of every one of the cottagers' children, knew where they were employed,
and whom they had married. With the help of her maid, my mother used to
compound a cordial, bottles of which she distributed amongst the
cottagers, a cordial which gained an immense local reputation. The
ingredients of this panacea were one part of strong iron-water to five
parts of old whisky, to which sal-volatile, red lavender, cardamoms,
ginger, and other warming drugs were added. "Her Grace's bottle," as it
was invariably termed, achieved astonishing popularity, and the most
marvellous cures were ascribed to it. I have sometimes wondered whether
its vogue would have been as great had the whisky been eliminated from
its composition. In her home under the Sussex downs, amidst the broad
stretches of heather-clad common, the beautiful Tudor stone-built old
farm-houses, and the undulating woodlands of that most lovable and
typically English county, she continued, to the end of her life,
visiting amongst her less fortunate neighbours, and finding friends in
every house. Her immense vitality and power of entering into the
sorrows and enjoyments of others, led at times to developments very
unexpected in the case of one so aged. For instance, a small
great-nephew of mine had had a pair of stilts given him. The boy was
clum