George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor
George Hillard, Ed.

[388] great quiet and peace till it was time to drive. I enjoy this life very much. I did not know how tired I was till I began to rest . . . .

Our drive to-day was to Sir Somebody Dyke's, whose family have held the property on which they now live above five hundred years.

They were not at home, nor was Lady Amherst yesterday, and I was glad of both. The Dyke house is nothing, modern and ugly; but there is a fine old gate, all covered with ivy, and a little church still older, just big enough for a good-sized family to assemble in, and full of ‘old brasses,’ as they are called. . . . . It is a curious old place.

After we came home we walked about Mildmay's domain, where I found a good deal that is tasteful and agreeable, which you will remember, both in the brilliant flower-garden behind the house and the park-like scenery in front of it. Mildmay has about three thousand acres in all, and seems to be adding a good deal to its value by building nice cottages in his village, and a pleasant extension of the house towards the east. . . . .

Chevening, August 7, 1857.—. . . . We lingered at the breakfasttable yesterday, and the girls, instead of going to their governess, stopped to see me off,—a symptom that they liked my visit as well as they said they did, . . . . which was not unpleasant to me. At any rate, on my part I was sorry to leave them all, for they have been very kind to me, and Mrs. Mildmay is a person whose character and accomplishments are equally rare and attractive. Mildmay drove me over here. The road was pleasant, and lay through the valley in which both his estate and Lord Stanhope's are situated. You remember it, of course, as you must also remember Chevening, and so I will not lay out any of my words in describing it. Lady Stanhope came down to receive me, and took me at once to her own parlor, where Lord Stanhope joined us immediately. Monckton Milnes and his wife are stopping here, as well as Lady Granville Somerset, . . . . and Lady Strafford, or some such name, which I did not well hear.

We all walked out into the park, and went over the finer parts of it, where, among other things, I saw some Roman remains and monuments, brought by the first great Stanhope from Tarragona, in Spain, one of which gives much offence to all ladies, because it makes the crowning virtue of the wife to whose memory it is inscribed, that she was uxori obsequentissimoe. Lord Stanhope said that he had seen ladies flush with indignation at it, and break forth into unseemly expressions of anger.

In the little church, which is very becoming the family's position,—not large, but picturesque and antique,—there is a beautiful