Part 26 (1/2)

He sent me many poems, but I think these two are the best The first ritten to me on my twenty-first birthday, before the Souls cale flohen the world is white with ay?

What is a thought to one so rich in the loving thoughts of h again?

Yet when you see ift, you may (Ma bayadere aux yeux de jais) Think of irl, if you will let me be Somewhere enshrined within the fane of your pure memory; Think of your poet as of one who only thinks of you, That you ARE all his thought, that he were happy if he knew-- You DID receive his gift, and say (Ma bayadere aux yeux de jais) ”He thinks of me to-day”

And this is the second:

She drew me from my cosy seat, She drew me to her cruel feet, She whispered, ”Call h, Alas, you fool, I knew not I Was only her pis-aller

The jade! she knew her business well, She made each hour a heaven or hell, For she could coax and rally; She was SO loving, frank and kind, That no suspicion crost my mind That I was her pis-aller

My brother says ”I told you so!

Her conduct was not comme il faut, But strictly comme il fallait; She swore that she was fond and true; No doubt she was, poor girl, but you Were only her pis-aller”

He asked ive me for a birthday present, and I said:

”If you want to give me pleasure, take me down to your father's country house for a Saturday to Monday”

This Lionel arranged; and he and I went down to Aldworth, Hasle in the train, a distinguished old lady got in She wore an aoloshes, a sable tippet and a large, picturesque lace bonnet She did not appear to be listening to our conversation, because she was reading with an air of concentration; but, on looking at her, I observed her eyes fixed upon me I wore a scarlet cloak trimmed with cock's feathers and a black, three- cornered hat When we arrived at our station, the old lady tipped a porter to find out froe who I was; and when she died --several years later--she left me in her will one of aret Beaumont; and I made both her acquaintance and friendshi+p before her death

Lady Tennyson was an invalid; and ere received on our arrival by the poet Tennyson was a ht, figure, carriage, features and expression

Added to this he had what George Meredith said of hireeted :

”Well, are you as clever and spurty as your sister Laura?”

I had never heard the word ”spurty” before, nor indeed have I since To answer this kind of frontal attack one has to be either saucy or servile; so I said nothing memorable We sat down to tea and he asked :

”Your sister said of me, you know, that I was both untidy and dirty”

To which I replied:

”Did you mind this?”

TENNYSON: ”I wondered if it was true Do you think I'm dirty?”

MARGOT: ”You are very handsome”

TENNYSON: ”I can see by that remark that you think I am Very well then, I will dress for dinner Have you read Jane Welsh Carlyle's letters?”

MARGOT: ”Yes, I have, and I think them excellent It seems a pity,” I added, with the commonplace that is apt to overcome one in a first conversation with a man of eminence, ”that they were ever ht have been perfectly happy”