There is a peculiarly long, narrow frame hanging
on the opposite side of the wall, and as Mrs. Lynn
Linton permits an inspection of everything, you
examine it carefully, while she explains the subject.
It is nearly four yards long, and represents the Parthenon frieze—the Panathenaic procession—and the
fight of the Amazons and Athenians, reduced and
restored by John Herring. As the slate matrix was
broken, it is now extremely valuable. It is in plaster
of Paris, mounted on red, and is the property of Mr.
Linton, who has bequeathed it to the National Gallery
in America The small statuette of “Margaret," modelled by Geefs, is another and very rare gem.
Mrs. Lynn Linton is also the possessor of a quaint grey
vase, a relic of the Great Exhibition of 1851. On one
little table, covered with an Oriental cloth, crowded
with favourite photographs, the portrait of a graceful,
pretty girl occupies a prominent place. "That is my
Beatrice, my Bee, my dear adopted daughter," she says,
"dear as if she were my own; and these," pointing to
two large framed pictures, "are both likenesses of my
friend Mr. Fuller, a nephew of Sir Arthur Helps.
We first became friends through correspondence. He
sent me his book, ’Culmshire Folk.' His wife invited
me to Ireland last year, and the result was my first
and last political work about that country."
You ask Mrs. Lynn Linton to tell you about some of the celebrated people whom she has net, After musing awhile, she mentions Captain Maconochie (the convicts friend), Sir Charles Babbage, Kinglake, Miss Jane Porter, Mrs. Milner Gibson—"she was my social godmother; but these all belonged to a past generation.
