for him, in the full persuasion that had he lived he would have married
her, and that, the mutual regard they entertained for each other
warranted her assuming the deepest mourning for him. Not the least
curious part of the emotional demonstrations I have described, was the
contrast which they formed to Sir Thomas Lawrence's habitual demeanor,
which was polished and refined, but reserved to a degree of coldness,
and as indicative of reticent discretion and imperturbable self-control
as became a man who lived in such high social places, and frequented the
palaces of royalty and the boudoirs of the great rival beauties of the
English aristocracy. On my twentieth birthday, which occurred soon after
my first appearance, Lawrence sent me a magnificent proof-plate of
Reynolds's portrait of my aunt as the "Tragic Muse," beautifully framed,
and with this inscription: "This portrait, by England's greatest
painter, of the noblest subject of his pencil, is presented to her niece
and worthy successor, by her most faithful humble friend and servant,
Lawrence." When my mother saw this, she exclaimed at it, and said, "I am
surprised he ever brought himself to write those words--her 'worthy
successor.'" A few days after, Lawrence begged me to let him have the
print again, as he was not satisfied with the finishing of the frame. It
was sent to him, and when it came back he had effaced the words in which
he had admitted _any_ worthy successor to his "Tragic Muse;" and Mr.
H----, who was at that time his secretary, told me that Lawrence had the
print lying with that inscription in his drawing-room for several days
before sending it to me, and had said to him, "Cover it up; I cannot
bear to look at it."

One day, at the end of my sitting, Lawrence showed me a lovely portrait
of Mrs. Inchbald, of whom my mother, as we drove home, told me a number
of amusing anecdotes. She was very beautiful, and gifted with original
genius, as her plays and farces and novels (above all, the "Simple
Story") testify; she was not an actress of any special merit, but of
respectable mediocrity. She stuttered habitually, but her delivery was
never impeded by this defect on the stage; a curious circumstance, not
uncommon to persons who have that infirmity, and who can read and recite
without suffering from it, though quite unable to speak fluently. Mrs.
Inchbald was a person of a very remarkable character, lovely, poor, with
unusual mental powers and of irreproach