a Buller, too, was typical, but in a totally different way. She was a
type of that county life which railways have gradually modified, and by
this time almost obliterated. She was a woman remarkable for her
vivacity, wit, and humor. At county balls she was an institution. At
country houses throughout Devonshire and Cornwall she was a familiar and
welcome guest, and to half of her hosts and hostesses she was in one way
or another related. Among her accomplishments was the singing of comic
songs, in a beautifully clear but half-apologetic voice, so that while
gaining in point they lost all trace of vulgarity, her eyes seeming to
invite each listener on whom she fixed them to share with her some
amusement which was only half legitimate. At the Duke of Bedford's
house, near Tavistock, she exercised this magic one evening on Lord
John Russell. The song which she sang to him was political. It began
thus, each verse having the same recurring burden:

"Come, listen while I sing to you,
Lord John, that prince of sinisters,
Who once pulled down the House of Lords,
The Crown and all the ministers.
That is, he would have if he could,
But a little thing prevented him."

For many years she spent a large part of every winter with Lady (then
Miss) Burdett-Coutts, who had in those days a large villa at Torquay,
generally filled with visitors. Emma Buller's allusions to these, many
of whom were notabilities, enlarged, as I listened to them in my
childhood, my conception of the social world, and made it seem vaguely
livelier and more fruitful in adventure than the hereditary circle with
which alone I was so far familiar.

This result was accentuated by the stories told in my hearing of another
personage well known to my family likewise, to which I listened with a
yet keener appreciation. Bishop Philpotts--for it is of him I
speak--holding till the day of his death a "golden stall" at Durham, the
emoluments of which amounted to L5,000 a year, interested me rather as a
lay magnate than as a clerical. Among the many villas then rising at
Torquay the Bishop built one of the largest. This agreeable residence,
in the designing of which he was helped by my father, and which
overlooked extensive glades and lawns sloping down toward the sea,
enabled him to enjoy a society more entertaining than that of his own
cathedral close; and the anecdotes current in my family as to his ways
and his mundane hospitalitie