her day, you must go to Chelsea for it. It may not be
quite to your taste, but, in any case, there is no other intellectual
warehouse in which that kind of article is kept in stock.'[33]

Another eye-witness, Mr Moncure D. Conway, says: 'When Carlyle sat down
there was an audible sound, as of breath long held, by all present; then
a cry from the students, an exultation; they rose up, all arose, waving
their arms excitedly; some pressed forward, as if wishing to embrace
him, or to clasp his knees; others were weeping; what had been heard
that day was more than could be reported; it was the ineffable spirit
that went forth from the deeps of a great heart and from the ages stored
up in it, and deep answered unto deep.'

Immediately after the delivery of the address, Tyndall telegraphed to
Mrs Carlyle this brief message, 'A perfect triumph.' That evening she
dined at Forster's, where she met Dickens and Wilkie Collins. They drank
Carlyle's health, and to her it was 'a good joy.' It was Carlyle's
intention to have returned at once to London, but he changed his mind,
and went for a few quiet days at Scotsbrig. When Tyndall was back in
London Mrs Carlyle got all the particulars of the rectorial address from
him, and was made perfectly happy about it.

Numberless congratulations poured in upon Mrs Carlyle, and for Saturday,
April 21st, she had arranged a small tea-party. In the morning she wrote
her daily letter to Carlyle, and in the afternoon she went out in her
brougham for a drive, taking her little dog with her. When near Victoria
Gate, Hyde Park, she put the dog out to run. 'A passing carriage,' says
Froude, 'went over its foot.... She sprang out, caught the dog in her
arms, took it with her into the brougham, and was never more seen alive.
The coachman went twice round the drive, by Marble Arch down to Stanhope
Gate, along the Serpentine and round again. Coming a second time near to
the Achilles statue, and surprised to receive no directions, he turned
round, saw indistinctly that something was wrong, and asked a gentleman
near to look into the carriage. The gentleman told him briefly to take
the lady to St. George's Hospital, which was not 200 yards distant. She
was sitting with her hands folded in her lap _dead_.'[34]

At the hour she died Carlyle was enjoying the 'green solitudes and fresh
spring breezes' of Annandale, 'quietly but far from happily.' About nine
o'clock the same night his brother-in-law, Mr Aitken, b