on how many evenings I played and sang all his favorite songs
and tunes to my father during these last winters while he would listen
while he smoked or read, or, in his more usual fashion, paced up and down
the room. I never saw him more peacefully contented than at these times.

There were always "improvements"--as my father used to call his
alterations--being made at "Gad's Hill," and each improvement was
supposed to be the last. As each was completed, my sister--who was
always a constant visitor, and an exceptionally dear one to my
father--would have to come down and inspect, and as each was displayed,
my father would say to her most solemnly: "Now, Katie, you behold your
parent's latest and last achievement." These "last improvements" became
quite a joke between them. I remember so well, on one such occasion,
after the walls and doors of the drawing-room had been lined with
mirrors, my sister's laughing speech to "the master": "I believe papa,
that when you become an angel your wings will be made of looking-glass
and your crown of scarlet geraniums."

And here I would like to correct an error concerning myself. I have been
spoken of as my father's "favorite daughter." If he had a favorite
daughter--and I hope and believe that the one was as dear to him as the
other--my dear sister must claim that honor. I say this ungrudgingly,
for during those last two years my father and I seemed to become more
closely united, and I know how deep was the affectionate intimacy at the
time of his death.

The "last improvement"--in truth, the very last--was the building of a
conservatory between the drawing and dining rooms. My father was more
delighted with this than with any previous alteration, and it was
certainly a pretty addition to the quaint old villa. The chalet, too,
which he used in summer as his study, was another favorite spot at his
favorite "Gad's Hill."

In the early months of 1870 we moved up to London, as my father had
decided to give twelve farewell readings there. He had the sanction of
the late Sir Thomas Watson to this undertaking, on condition that there
should be no railway journeys in connection with them. While we were in
London he made many private engagements, principally, I know, on my
account, as I was to be presented that spring.

During this last visit to London, my father was not, however, in his
usual health, and was so quickly and easily tired that a great number of
our engagements h