on and note the few
facts that still remain to be told in illustration of the writer's
character.

In the years which followed the tour in Scotland, other children were
added to Wordsworth's family, till the small cottage at the Townend could
no longer accommodate the household. The second child was the poet's
only daughter, whom after his sister he called Dorothy, generally known
as Dora, for, as he tells Lady Beaumont, he could not find it in his
heart to call her by another name. This second Dora occupies in
Wordsworth's later poetry the same place which the first Dorothy held in
his earlier. Aunt Dorothy's love, as it expanded to take in each
newcomer, did not lose any of its intensity towards her brother. While
the uneasiness which the act of writing had always occasioned him was not
diminished, weakness of eyesight increased. Then she had to write for
him, she read to him, she walked with him as of old, besides sharing in
all household cares. In November 1806, Wordsworth removed with his
family to Coleorton, in Leicestershire, to spend the winter there in a
house of Sir George Beaumont's; 'Our own cottage,' he writes, 'being far
too small for our family to winter in, though we manage well enough in it
during the summer.' In the spring of 1807, Wordsworth and his wife
visited London. Dorothy, who was left with the children, wrote the poem
called 'The Mother's Return,' as a welcome to Mrs. Wordsworth when she
came back. This with two other poems, written by her for the children,
one on 'The Wind,' the other called 'The Cottager to her Infant,'
afterwards appeared in an edition of her brother's poems.

This seems the proper place to give the account of Miss Wordsworth, as
she appeared to De Quincey, when in 1807 he first made the acquaintance
of Wordsworth, just before the Poet and his family quitted their old home
in the cottage at Grasmere Townend. After speaking of Mrs. Wordsworth,
he continues:--

'Immediately behind her moved a lady, shorter, slighter, and perhaps, in
all other respects, as different from her in personal characteristics as
could have been wished for the most effective contrast. "Her face was of
Egyptian brown;" rarely, in a woman of English birth, had I seen a more
determinate gipsy tan. Her eyes were not soft as Mrs. Wordsworth's, nor
were they fierce or bold; but they were wild and startling, and hurried
in their motion. Her manner was warm, and even ardent; her sensibility
se