gh Street, and that
which the family attended. Even up to the last days of her life Bessie
used to say that she could not listen to a chapter in Isaiah, especially
any of those read in Advent, without hearing the sound of his voice.

Cardinal Newman mentions in his _Apologia_ that, on account of his
doctrine and teaching, the Vice-Chancellor threatened no longer to allow
his children to attend St. Mary's. But the children knew nothing of the
proposed prohibition.[4]

Augustus Short, afterwards Bishop of Adelaide, was one of Mr. Wintle's
curates at Culham. He remembers Bessie as a child, and visited her for
the last time when he was in England in 1884. Mr. Coxe, the late
Librarian of the Bodleian, was another of the Culham curates, the friend
of a lifetime, whose farewell letter to Bessie was written shortly
before his own death in 1881. He lived in Oxford, and went over to
Culham every Sunday. At first he was accompanied by his young wife, but
Mrs. Coxe was speedily overtaken by the cares of a family and could not
go with him. Mrs. Gilbert, with her warm, kind heart, took pity upon the
lonely wife, and invited her to spend the Sundays with them. In this way
she saw much of the _sisterhood_, the pretty name by which the eight
girls were known.

They generally walked out on Sunday afternoons, and when they reached a
certain spot in Christ Church Meadows, Bessie would stop and say, "Here
you have the best view of Christ Church Towers." Other friends of this
and later times were Bishop Gray of Cape Town, Bishop Mackenzie, and Dr.
Barnes, Canon of Christ Church. The Provost of Oriel, Dr. Hawkins, and
Dr. Gilbert were great friends, and it was possibly on this account that
Bessie was a special favourite with the Provost. Mrs. Gilbert's uncle,
Mr. Wintle, was a fellow of St. John's. He was a wealthy bachelor, had a
fine voice, sang well, and was very fond of the society of his
great-nieces. The Gilberts were acquainted with nearly all the families
of the heads of colleges in Oxford, and the handsome, clever little
girls were favourites and were "made much of." When there was a dinner
party at home they came in to dessert, and accompanied the ladies to the
drawing-room, where Bessie would play and sing. She lived thus not
merely in a world of ideas, but in the external world of facts, of
things. When a friend once spoke of another lady as handsome, Bessie
exclaimed, "Oh, Mrs. ----, with such a nose!"

Many of the fellows of