ropose Mr. Heathcote at
nomination; back to Pembroke Lodge about five, having been very
well received, but chiefly by the _ill-dressed_. Papa
surprisingly well--saw him on my way out of town; far the happiest
sight I had yet had of him. Dear Papa, he looked so pleased, smiled
so brightly when he saw me. "Ah, dear Fanny! How glad I am to see
you! How fresh and well you look." Held my hand all the time I was
with him.... I said I hoped in his place I should be as
patient--that he was an example to us all, as he always had
been.... Said few daughters could look back at my age without being
able to remember having heard from their father one word but of
love and kindness....

He died on July 31, 1859. His keen interest in public questions continued
to the end, with a firm belief in the ultimate triumph of good. "Magna est
veritas et prevalebit" were almost the last words he spoke on his
death-bed.

During the autumn of 1860 Lord John accompanied the Queen to Coburg, where
boar-shooting with the Prince Consort and Court-life (he never liked its
formalities) failed to console him for absence from wife and children.

_Lady John to Lord John Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _October_ 11, 1860

I found two letters from you here.... So you are fairly on your
journey and safe so far. And here I am with my large detachment,
all well and merry, and all at dear beloved home again after our
wanderings. I am so thankful, and I hope to be still more so in
five days, when I am no longer doomed to sing "There's nae luck
about the house," as I have done daily for three weeks.... That you
should have killed a wild boar is all but incredible, and makes me
expect to see you with a long moustache and green _Faeger_
costume.

In April, 1861, Lord John's second daughter, Victoria, married Mr.
Villiers, son of the Bishop of Durham. Lady John wrote some verses to her
on her marriage which are published in Walpole's "Life of Lord John
Russell."

In May the Duke of Bedford died. The Duke had been Lord John's close
friend, and had often advised him at the beginning of his career. He was
one of those influential noblemen who watch politics with unflagging
interest, but without the smallest desire to take an active part in them.
It was his pride and pleasure to know the ins and outs of a situation
perhaps even better than some of the principal actors in it, and hi