er? Our last communications were at
Christmas-time--a month ago. Are you all well? Are you all entirely
at the feet of the dear baby boy? [106] Or have your republican
principles begun to rebel against his autocratic sway? ... I have
been amusing myself with an obscure author named William
Shakespeare, and enjoying him _immensely_. Amusing myself is
not the right expression, for I have been in the tragedies only. I
had not read "Othello" for ages. How wonderful, great, and
beautiful and painful it is (oh dear, why is it so coarse?). Then I
also read "Lear" and "Henry VIII," and being delightfully ignorant
I had the great interest of reading the same period (Henry VIII) in
Holinshed, and in finding Katharine's and Wolsey's speeches there!
Then I have tried a little Ben Jonson and Lord Chesterfield's
letters. What a worldling, and what a destroyer of a young mind
that man was. Can you tell me how the son turned out? I cannot find
any information about him. The language is delightful, and I wish I
could remember any of his expressions.... Now give me a volume of
Pembroke Lodge news in return for this. Public matters, the fear of
war, the arming of all nations, make me sick at heart. How
wonderful and admirable the conduct of that poor friendless little
Bulgaria has been. Then Ireland, oh me! but on that topic I won't
write to the Home Ruler!

Your affectionate sister,

C.M.P.

[106] Arthur, son of Mr. Rollo Russell.

_Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _January_ 27, 1887

DEAREST LOTTY,--It was but yesterday that there rose dimly to my
memory the vision of a lady with the initials--C.M.P., and who
knows how long I might have remained in the dark as to who and what
she might be but for this letter, in which she claims me as a
sister! and moreover an elder and a wiser sister! one therefore
whose doings and not-doings, writing and not-writing, must not be
questioned by the younger....

We have imagined ourselves living in a state of isolation from our
fellow-creatures, but yours far exceeds ours and makes it almost
into a life of gaiety. I'm most extremely sorry to hear of it,
though most extremely glad to hear that your minds to you a kingdom
are. What good and wholesome and delightful food _your_ mind
has been living on. Isn't that Shakespeare