missed her. It had become so much a habit with me to put
by things in my mind with a reference to her, and to say to myself, I
shall keep this for aunt Jane.'

A nephew of hers used to observe that his visits to Chawton, after the
death of his aunt Jane, were always a disappointment to him. From old
associations he could not help expecting to be particularly happy in that
house; and never till he got there could he realise to himself how all
its peculiar charm was gone. It was not only that the chief light in the
house was quenched, but that the loss of it had cast a shade over the
spirits of the survivors. Enough has been said to show her love for
children, and her wonderful power of entertaining them; but her friends
of all ages felt her enlivening influence. Her unusually quick sense of
the ridiculous led her to play with all the common-places of everyday
life, whether as regarded persons or things; but she never played with
its serious duties or responsibilities, nor did she ever turn individuals
into ridicule. With all her neighbours in the village she vas on
friendly, though not on intimate, terms. She took a kindly interest in
all their proceedings, and liked to hear about them. They often served
for her amusement; but it was her own nonsense that gave zest to the
gossip. She was as far as possible from being censorious or satirical.
She never abused them or _quizzed_ them--_that_ was the word of the day;
an ugly word, now obsolete; and the ugly practice which it expressed is
much less prevalent now than it was then. The laugh which she
occasionally raised was by imagining for her neighbours, as she was
equally ready to imagine for her friends or herself, impossible
contingencies, or by relating in prose or verse some trifling anecdote
coloured to her own fancy, or in writing a fictitious history of what
they were supposed to have said or done, which could deceive nobody.

The following specimens may be given of the liveliness of mind which
imparted an agreeable flavour both to her correspondence and her
conversation:--

ON READING IN THE NEWSPAPERS THE MARRIAGE OF MR. GELL TO MISS GILL, OF
EASTBOURNE.

At Eastbourne Mr. Gell, From being perfectly well,
Became dreadfully ill, For love of Miss Gill.
So he said, with some sighs, I'm the slave of your _iis_;
Oh, restore, if you please, By accepting my _ees_.

ON THE MARRIAGE OF A MIDDLE-AGED FLIRT WITH A MR. WAKE, WHOM, IT WAS