nly other remaining personal fragment out of
"Tales of the Islanders"; it is a sort of apology, contained in the
introduction to the second volume, for their not having been continued
before; the writers have been for a long time too busy and lately too
much absorbed in politics:

"Parliament was opened, and the great Catholic question was brought
forward, and the Duke's measures were disclosed, and all was slander,
violence, party spirit, and confusion. Oh, those six months, from the
time of the King's speech to the end! Nobody could write, think, or
speak on any subject but the Catholic question, and the Duke of
Wellington, and Mr. Peel. I remember the day when the _Intelligence
Extraordinary_ came with Mr. Peel's speech in it, containing the terms
on which the Catholics were to be let in! With what eagerness papa
tore off the cover, and how we all gathered round him, and with what
breathless anxiety we listened, as one by one they were disclosed, and
explained, and argued upon so ably and so well; and then when it was
all out, how aunt said that she thought it was excellent, and that the
Catholics could do no harm with such good security. I remember also
the doubts as to whether it would pass the House of Lords, and the
prophecies that it would not; and when the paper came which was to
decide the question, the anxiety was almost dreadful with which we
listened to the whole affair; the opening of the doors, the hush; the
royal dukes in their robes, and the great duke in green sash and
waistcoat; the rising of all the peeresses when he rose; the reading of
his speech--papa saying that his words were like precious gold; and
lastly, the majority of one to four (sic) in favour of the Bill. But
this is a digression."

This must have been written when she was between thirteen and fourteen.

She was an indefatigable student; constantly reading and learning; with
a strong conviction of the necessity and value of education very
unusual in a girl of fifteen. She never lost a moment of time, and
seemed almost to grudge the necessary leisure for relaxation and
play-hours, which might be partly accounted for by the awkwardness in
all games occasioned by her shortness of sight. Yet, in spite of these
unsociable habits, she was a great favourite with her school-fellows.
She was always ready to try and do what they wished, though not sorry
when they called her awkward, and left her out of their sports. Then,
at night,