away from them. I think she died about the same time that Thackeray did, perhaps a year before.
A kind-hearted, noble, tender man; a generous, sincere gentleman; a healthy, good liver, and with a fine grip to his hearty hand. He was a big man and heavy, and walked with a strong step; a healthful, broad-shouldered Englishman, whose jollity and fun seemed to forbid reticence on his part, but who could and did, at the touch of humbug or affectation, retreat into himself, turn away with an expression of polished irony on his face, and, with a singular movement of the head, assure the bore that he was no longer needed.
When we went to England in 1869, Miss Thackeray gave us a dinner. Her home then was with her sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Leslie Stephen. The afterwards much-talked-of Mr. Justice Stephen was of the party, and Doyle was there, the artist of Punch, so distinguished for his "Brown, Jones, and Robinson." I had a letter to Miss Thackeray from Dr. Bellows; but to be an American and a friend of their father was to these ladies a sufficient introduction, and they treated us with great kindness. We saw many of the MSS. of Thackeray's famous works, illustrated by his own hand, and Mr. and Mrs. Leslie Stephen took every pains to show us these treasures.
During this dinner, at which Miss Thackeray made herself very agreeable, a message came in from Madame Ritchie saying that her son, Richmond Ritchie, had passed his examinations successfully. This seemed to be much-longed-for news to all of them, and it is the more agreeable to remember, since he is the gentleman who has made her so happy as her husband for twenty years.
I had the pleasure of meeting this famous and agree-
