"We should like to see him oftener," she
said, "he is delightful company, but we cannot get him to come here;
we are too quiet for him!"
I found food for thought in this little speech when I remembered the
fatuous talk at dinner-tables where I had sometimes met Browning, and
thought of Tennyson's great talk and the lofty serenity of his lady's
presence.
My last interview with Lady Tennyson was scarcely two months before
Tennyson's death. The great grief of their life in the loss of their
son Lionel had fallen upon them meanwhile. They were then at Aldworth,
which, although a house of their own building, was far more mediaeval
in appearance than Farringford. She was alone, and still on the couch
in the large drawing-room, and there she spoke with the same youth of
heart, the same deep tenderness, the same simple affection which had
never failed through years of intercourse. When she rose to say
farewell and to follow me as far as possible, she stepped with the
same spirited sweep I had first seen.
The happiness of welcoming her lovely face, which wore to those who
knew her an indescribable heavenliness, is mine no more; but the
memory cannot be effaced of one lady who held the traditions of high
womanhood safe above the possible deteriorations of human existence.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Authors and Friends, by Annie Fields
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTHORS AND FRIENDS ***
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