The Marquis had his right hand wrapped up in a
black-silk handkerchief; so he gave me his left, and, from some
awkwardness in meeting it, when I expected the right, I gave him only
three of my fingers,--a thing I never did before to any person, and it is
droll that I should have done it to a Marquis. He addressed me with
great simplicity and natural kindness, complimenting me on my works, and
speaking about the society of Liverpool in former days. Lord Lansdowne
was the friend of Moore, and has about him the aroma communicated by the
memories of many illustrious people with whom he has associated.
Mr. Ticknor, the Historian of Spanish Literature, now greeted me. Mr.
Milnes introduced me to Mrs. Browning, and assigned her to me to conduct
into the breakfast-room. She is a small, delicate woman, with ringlets
of dark hair, a pleasant, intelligent, and sensitive face, and a low,
agreeable voice. She looks youthful and comely, and is very gentle and
lady-like. And so we proceeded to the breakfast-room, which is hung
round with pictures; and in the middle of it stood a large round table,
worthy to have been King Arthur's, and here we seated ourselves without
any question of precedence or ceremony. On one side of me was an elderly
lady, with a very fine countenance, and in the course of breakfast I
discovered her to be the mother of Florence Nightingale. One of her
daughters (not Florence) was likewise present. Mrs.
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