e earlier
portions of the story on which he was thus engaged until the midsummer
of 1844. Disappointments arose in connection with it, unexpected and
strange, which had important influence upon him: but, I reserve the
mention of these for awhile, that I may speak of the leading incidents
of 1843.

"I am in a difficulty," he wrote (12th of February), "and am coming down
to you some time to-day or to-night. I couldn't write a line yesterday;
not a word, though I really tried hard. In a kind of despair I started
off at half-past two with my pair of petticoats to Richmond; and dined
there!! Oh what a lovely day it was in those parts." His pair of
petticoats were Mrs. Dickens and her sister Georgina: the latter, since
his return from America, having become part of his household, of which
she remained a member until his death; and he had just reason to be
proud of the steadiness, depth, and devotion of her friendship. In a
note-book begun by him in January 1855, where, for the first time in his
life, he jotted down hints and fancies proposed to be made available in
future writings, I find a character sketched of which, if the whole was
not suggested by his sister-in-law, the most part was applicable to her.
"She--sacrificed to children, and sufficiently rewarded. From a child
herself, always 'the children' (of somebody else) to engross her. And so
it comes to pass that she is never married; never herself has a child;
is always devoted 'to the children' (of somebody else); and they love
her; and she has always youth dependent on her till her death--and dies
quite happily." Not many days after that holiday at Richmond, a slight
unstudied outline in pencil was made by Maclise of the three who formed
the party there, as we all sat together; and never did a touch so light
carry with it more truth of observation. The likenesses of all are
excellent; and I here preserve the drawing because nothing ever done of
Dickens himself has conveyed more vividly his look and bearing at this
yet youthful time. He is in his most pleasing aspect; flattered, if you
will; but nothing that is known to me gives a general impression so
life-like and true of the then frank, eager, handsome face.

It was a year of much illness with me, which had ever-helpful and active
sympathy from him. "Send me word how you are," he wrote, two days later.
"But not so much for that I now write, as to tell you, peremptorily,
that I insist on your wrapping yourself up a