"For none on earth so lone as he
Whose way of thought is high and free,
Beyond the mist, beyond the cloud,
Beyond the clamour of the crowd."
 
 
I had long since had a high paling put round my garden to screen it from the inquisitive eyes of persons who had, until this was done, the impertinence to lean over the short stone wall and railings to watch Parnell as he went in and out. This new paling was seven feet high. On the carriage gates there was bronze ornamental work, thick and heavy. Once this was cut through by someone unknown and fell, the next time the gate was opened, upon the head of the groom, as he stooped to unbolt it.
 
This little "accident" was no doubt intended for Mr. Parnell's or for my benefit, and the fact that the young man's arm was pushed against the gate, above his head, as he stooped to ease the bolt, doubtless saved him from a cracked skull. As it was, he was badly bruised and cut, some fifty pounds of bronze work falling partly upon him. After this he examined the work on the other gate, and, finding that this also had been cut through, with the help of the gardener lifted it off before further damage was done. This pointless and malignant spite might easily have had far more serious consequences, since my children were going out by these gates driving their ponies, and it was quite by chance that they had called {257} the groom to open the gates for them, for one or other of them generally played at being the "footman" on these occasions. The police could not trace the perpetrators of the little pleasantry.
 
I then made a beautiful, thick rose-hedge at one side of this garden, and the roses grew and flourished to such an extent that it proved an effectual screen from the too-pressing attention of persons, who had not, I suppose, very many interests of their own.
 
On the morning that the (so-called) Parnell letters appeared in the Times (March 7, 1887), they were cut out and pasted on the gate by a person or persons unknown; and here also the perspicacity of our local police failed to find the merrymaker.
 
On that day I did not give Parnell the Times opened as usual for his glance over the political reports while he breakfasted. He asked for it, but I wanted him to finish his breakfast first, and replied: "The Times is unusually stodgy; do eat your breakfast first."
 
He said he must finish a bit of assaying he had left over-night before going to London, and would not have time for papers afterwards, so I told him of the letters, and propped the Times against the teapot as usual.
 
He read the whole thing; meditatively buttering and eating his toast the while. I supplied him with marmalade, and turned over the folded paper for him so that he could read more easily.
 
He made no remark at all till he had finished breakfast, and carefully clipped the end off his cigar; then, with a smile, he tossed the paper at me, saying, "Now for that assaying I didn't finish! Wouldn't you hide your head with shame if your King were so stupid as that, my Queen?"
 
{258}
I helped him to set his chemicals right, urging on him that the thing was very serious, and that he must attend to it; but he only replied: "You think about it for me while I am finishing this. Now don't spoil this for me. It will do presently!" and I subsided with the Times while he worked at his crucibles, and jotted down results—absolutely absorbed for more than two hours, and only brought back to politics by my call of "You absolutely must start now."
 
He had a wonderful little machine—a balance that gave the weight of almost infinitesimal parts of a grain—and this might be touched by no one but himself. He now reluctantly covered it with its glass case and lovingly padded it round with a cloth, lest a rough movement in the room should put it out of balance.
 
I said, "Now, my King, you must attend to the Times. You must take an action against them."
 
"No. Why should I?" struggling into his coat as I held it for him. "I have never taken any notice of any newspapers, nor of anyone. Why should I now?"
 
However, he promised me he would consult the "Party" about the letters, and left assuring me that the English Times was a paper of no particular importance, after all.
 
He got home before I did that evening, and I found him on my return weighing the infinitesimal specks of his morning's extraction of gold with the utmost accuracy. He gave me a smile and the fire-flame of his welcoming eyes as usual, but murmured, "Don't speak for one moment; I'll tell you the moment I have finished this," and I had to sit with as much patience as I could muster while he finished his calculations. Then, coming over to me in triumph, he informed my for once uninterested ears {259} that he had now completed the extraction of something or other of a grain of the gold for my wedding ring.
 
On my firmly recalling his attention to the matter of the letters he said wearily—all the interest and buoyancy gone—"They want me to fight it, but it will be a terrible nuisance, my Queenie; I have seen Lewis, and he is going to see Russell—Sir Charles, you know—and then I am to see him again."
 
He was very undecided about the necessity of taking the action against the Times, and more than once pointed out to me that the opinion of that paper and its readers did not really interest him; but, on my refusing to accept this at all, and urging that Ireland required that he should defend himself in this, and that my view was that of the Irish Party, he promised to take the matter seriously, merely remarking with an amused cynicism that if Ireland wanted him to cudgel a clean bill of health out of England she would find work for all the blackthorns she grew.
 
Soon my absorbed study of the forged letters caught Parnell's interest, he shook off his apathy, and joined my study of his handwriting of many years, and those of the various possible (and impossible) imitators. Once he became interested he threw himself into it as wholeheartedly as he did into any other hobby. We spent hours in this study of calligraphy, and made some interesting and amusing discoveries.
 
After a couple of interviews with Mr. Lewis and Sir Charles Russell, Parnell one evening asked me if I would mind seeing Lewis, as he had expressed a wish to see me. I went therefore to Ely Place, and had an interview with Mr. (Sir George) Lewis. After we had talked over the situation he gave me tea, and made an appointment for another interview in a few days' time. I put before {260} him my various conclusions as to handwritings, one of which he considered might be useful.
 
We had frequent consultations after this, and, as the time of the trial drew near, Lewis's offices and the passages leading to it, with the waiting rooms, were filled with the witnesses from Ireland concerned in the trial. The case did not worry Parnell much—except that it took up so much of our all too little leisure time, which was so precious to us.
 
The following letters, written from Avondale during the anxious time preceding the trial, will serve to show how little the matter affected his ordinary interests.
 
 
 
August 30, 1887.
MY OWN WIFIE,—I have been exceedingly anxious about you ever since I left. You seemed so very ill that it has been haunting me ever since that I ought to have stayed in London. My own darling may write to me whenever she pleases. I was so longing for a telegram all day yesterday, but not getting one came to the conclusion that you had not been able to go to London.
 
I have been round the place here, everything going on well. The new mine is improving, so I have been tempted to continue it for a short while longer.
 
It will not be necessary for me to remain here longer than a few days, so that whenever you are ready for me I can return.
 
YOUR OWN LOVING HUSBAND.
 
I am very well indeed.
 
 
 
January 4, 1888.
I finished will before going to bed on Monday, and will execute it and send it north to-morrow. Am pretty sure to be able to return next Monday or Tuesday at latest.
 
MY OWN DARLING QUEENIE,—I got off all right yesterday morning, forgetting the lamp, however, until I was in train, when I decided upon telegraphing them from Chester to send it on at once, which I did. I am having the carpenter to fix {261} a strong hook in the ceiling joist for it to hang upon, and it will be a great improvement on the present state of affairs, as the consumption of candles is enormous, while giving very little light. They are undoubtedly the best and safest lamps out; in fact, absolutely safe.
 
One of the little lamps here was broken since, so I have suspended the other one also, as it was no use by itself.
 
The room will be very nice for a large suspended lamp; it is about 13? feet high, by 24 feet by 20 feet.
 
I had only half an hour to wait at Kingstown for the train, which I spent in the waiting-room, and a quarter of an hour at Bray.
 
The sea was rather rough, but not too rough for me. I studied the swinging of a lamp minutely during the passage, and derived valuable lessons for the new ship.[1]
 
Am going to Arklow in the morning. Everything going on here very well, notwithstanding which I have been advising and admonishing K.[2] all day.
 
E.[3] is here all by herself, mother being expected to-night.
 
Miss B. B. was very old, very ugly, and very vulgar; in fact, E. says the worst sponge that ever got hold of my mother. She drank nothing but whisky, and took it to bed with her.
 
There was dancing after theatricals till six in the morning.[4]
 
I am very anxious about my own love, and so glad to get telegram to-day; expect letter to-morrow. Raining torrents all day. YOUR OWN HUSBAND.
 
 
 
A couple of weeks before the action came on Parnell came home in great amusement. Lewis had written asking him most particularly to call, as he had had a consultation with Sir Charles Russell and wished to report the result to Parnell. On Parnell's calling, thinking some {262} new phase of the case had been evolved, Mr. Lewis had "hoped he would not be annoyed," but Sir Charles and he were rather worried about his (Parnell's) clothes, and would he very much mind having a new frock-coat from Poole's for the trial! Parnell had great fun with me over that Poole coat, and when it came home we tried it on with great ceremony, Parnell stroking its silk facings with pride, and insisting upon a back view of it in the long mirror in my room.
 
Mr. Lewis inspired me with the greatest confidence, and his charmingly deferential manner fascinated me, while the keen brown eyes seemed to read the hidden secrets of the soul. He was always exquisitely dressed, and, when I made some playful remark about Parnell's new coat, he told me in confidence that Parnell's Irish homespuns were a great trial to him—this with such earnestness that I tried to suppress my laughter, as I explained to him what a pleasure it was to me to be possessed of a man who was above clothes; not below them in slovenliness, but above them and unconscious of his coverings.
 
Very many years after this, long after my husband's death, this acquaintance with Sir George Lewis served me in good stead. Circumstances arose which rendered me very doubtful and uneasy in regard to the probity of my trustee and solicitor, who had charge of my whole income and the capital thereof. I had had no communication with Sir George Lewis for very many years; but then the happy thought struck me that he would advise me privately and disinterestedly. My son went to him on my behalf, and it is entirely owing to the prompt action taken by Sir George that any part of my little income was saved to me.
 
{263}
My trustee had been speculating wildly, and, among that of other clients, every penny of my small fortune had been misappropriated. Sir George compelled the repayment of what was possible by the discredited and ruined man, and thus saved me by his kind and energetic intervention from absolute destitution. Apart from the very serious loss it entailed upon me, the downfall of my trustee, clever, good-looking and altogether charming, was a great blow to us all. He had been so much a friend, and I and my son and daughters had trusted him so completely.
 
The result of the Parnell Commission is well known. I continued to see Mr. Lewis regularly before the case came on, and on one occasion he asked me if I would mind going to Wood's Hotel, close by Ely Place, to meet him on a matter that had to do with the case. This I did, and, being early, awaited him in the coffee room. When he came we had a long business talk about the case, and he assured me that the issue was now completely secured. People were passing in and out as we talked, and several I noticed passed very close to us, and stared curiously at me before going out.
 
Suddenly, on observing this, I asked Mr. Lewis why he had arranged our interview in this place instead of at his office as usual. He made some evasive reply about a client of his who occupied a very distinguished position—and he mentioned this personage by name—having an appointment at the office, and disliking the fact of an............