ictation-book a publisher's colophon of a sundial with the word
_Finis_ above it, and, underneath, the words "Every Hour Shortens
Life." "Now, I prefer to think that every hour lengthens it," said
she, with one of her few smiles; for her cheerfulness was always
serious.

Best of all were the hours when she read to us extracts from
her album. "At least," she explained, "I _call_ it an album.
I ever longed to possess one, adorned with remarks--moral or
sprightly, as the case might be--by the Choicest Spirits of our Age,
and signed in their own illustrious handwriting. But in my sphere of
life these were hard--nay, impossible--to come by; so in my dilemma I
had recourse to subterfuge, and having studied the career of this or
that eminent man, I chose a subject and composed what (as it seemed
to me) he would _most likely_ have written upon it, signing his name
below--but in print, that the signatures may not pass hereafter for
real ones, should the book fall into the hands of strangers.
You must not think, therefore, that the lines on Statesmanship which
I am about to read you, beginning 'But why Statesmans _ship_?
Because, my lords and gentlemen, the State is indeed a ship, and
demands a skilful helmsman'--you must not think that they were
actually penned by the Right Honourable William Pitt. But I feel
sure the sentiments are such as he would have approved, and perhaps
might have uttered had the occasion arisen."

This puzzled us, and I am not sure that we took any trouble to
discriminate Miss Plinlimmon's share in these compositions from that
of their signatories. Indeed, the first time I set eyes on Lord
Wellington (as he rode by us to inspect the breaches in Ciudad
Rodrigo) my memory saluted him as the Honourable Arthur Wellesley,
author of the passage, "Though educated at Eton, I have often caught
myself envying the quaintly expressed motto of the more ancient
seminary amid the Hampshire chalk-hills, i.e. _Manners makyth man_";
and to this day I associate General Paoli with an apostrophe
"O Corsica! O my country, bleeding and inanimate!" etc., and with
Miss Plinlimmon's foot-note: "N.B.--The author of these affecting
lines, himself a blameless patriot, actually stood godfather to
the babe who has since become the infamous Napoleon Bonaparte.
Oh, irony! What had been the feelings of the good Paoli, could he
have foreseen this eventuality, as he promised and vowed beside the
font! (if they have such things in