Of course my first impulse was to rush to my poor boy's bedside; but what was to become of Mary--a girl of fifteen--unused to English ways, and speaking English still imperfectly? Perhaps our aunt, who was to leave us in a few days, would stay a little longer, though the approach of Christmas made it imperative for her companion to get back to the vicarage as soon as possible. But my husband?... Could I think of leaving him a prey to this terrible anxiety, and to all the dangers of a return of the old nervous attacks? I saw how he dreaded the mere possibility, though he never said a word to influence my decision, but the threatening insomnia and restlessness had already made their appearance, and warned me that I ought to stay near him.

I wrote to my best friend in Paris, begging her to send her own doctor to our poor boy, and to let me know the whole truth immediately. The answer was rea.s.suring--the crisis was past; there was nothing to fear now, only the patient would remain weak for some time, and would require great care. His friends--particularly one of them, a student of medicine--had nursed him intelligently and devotedly. As soon as he could take a little food my friend sent him delicacies and old wines, and when he could bear the railway he went to his grandmother's to await our return home.

We breathed again, and Aunt Susan and Annie left us comparatively quiet in mind.

My husband now went on with his work as fast as possible, for he longed to see his younger son again. When his notes for the "Graphic Arts" were completed, we made a round of visits to take leave of our friends, and after another short stay at Knapdale, where we had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Lockyer, and another very pleasant pilgrimage to Mr. and Mrs. Palmer's hermitage, we set off for Paris.

Mr. Seeley wrote shortly after our arrival in the French capital about several matters connected with the "Portfolio," and added: "How will you be able to settle down again in that little Autun? You will feel (as Robert Montgomery said of himself in Glasgow) like an oak in a flower-pot."

No, the oak liked to feel the pure air of the Morvan hills blowing about its head, and to spread its branches in unconfined s.p.a.ce. It was in great crowded cities that it felt the pressure of the flower-pot.

On arriving at home we found Richard well again, and gifted with an extraordinary appet.i.te--which was the restorative he most needed, having grown very thin and weak through his illness.

My husband had been very desirous to present me with a _souvenir_ of the success of "Etching and Etchers," and pressed me to choose a trinket, either a bracelet or a brooch; but I thought what I possessed already quite sufficient, and though very sensible of his kind thoughtfulness, I said that if he liked to make me a present, I would choose something useful,--a silk dress, for instance. "But that would not be a present,"

he said; "when you want a dress you buy it. I should like to offer you some pretty object which would last."

I knew that he liked to see me--and ladies in general--wearing jewels; not in great quant.i.ty, but simply as a touch of finish to the toilette.

When I was young, he would have liked me (had it been possible) to dress always in white, and the fashions not being then so elaborate as they have become, it was easy enough in summer-time and in the country to indulge his taste. So in warm days I often wore a white muslin dress, quite plain, relieved only by a colored sash. If the sash happened to be green, he liked it to be matched by a set of crystal beads of the same color, which he had brought me from Switzerland when he had gone there with his aunt and uncle. When the ribbon was red, I was to wear corals, and with a blue one lapis-lazuli.

At last he remembered that I had admired some plain dead-gold bracelets of English make that we had been looking at together, not far from the National Gallery, and said he would be glad if I would choose one of them. I had, however, taken the same resolution about jewels as his own about pictures, and that was, to admire what was beautiful, but never to buy, because it was beyond our means. The resolution, once taken, left no way open to temptation. Still, I did not mean to deny myself the pleasure of accepting his proffered present, only I did not want it to be expensive, and since I had a sufficiency of jewels, "would he give me a pretty casket to put them in?" "Yes," he readily a.s.sented. And when I opened the casket of fair olive-wood, with the delicately wrought nickel clasps and lock, I found a folded paper laid on the dark-blue velvet tray, and having opened it read what follows--I need not say with what emotions.

"Here in this empty casket, instead of a diamond or pearl, Instead of a gem I leave but a little rhyme.

She remembers the brooch and the bracelet I gave her when she was a girl.

Deep blue from beyond the sea, not paler from lapse of time.

She will put them here in the casket, the ultramarine and the gold; And if such a thing might be, I would give them to her twice over; Once in my youthful hope, and now again when I'm old, But alike in youth or in age with the heart and the soul of a lover."

This note is entered in the diary:--

"January 1, 1881. Faceva i miei doni alla sposa, alla figlia, al mio figlio Stefano. La sposa era felicissima di ricevere la sua ca.s.setta."

Roberts Brothers had heard that a new book was in preparation, and they wrote in January, 1881:--

"Your third edition of 'Etching and Etchers' is really a magnificent specimen of book-making, and we understand two hundred copies have been sold in America. At all events, whatever the number sold, it is not to be had. We should like to have the American edition of the 'Graphic Arts,' and should be glad to receive the novel when it is ready."

But the novel had been put aside, the author being doubtful if it equalled "Marmorne" in quality. The whole of his time for writing was devoted to the "Graphic Arts," and the remainder to painting from nature, often with Mr. Pickering, and to the consideration of the necessary alterations to the boat in view of a summer cruise on the Saone. The reading of Italian was resumed pretty regularly, whilst the diary was kept in that language.

Early in the spring Mr. Seeley wrote:--

"I am afraid it is indispensable that we should meet in Paris, as the selection of engravings for reproduction is very important, though, like you, I grudge the loss of time. But the book is an important one, and we must do our very best to make it a success."

It was then decided that my husband should go to Paris with Richard, and they started on May 4, stopped a day at Sens to see the cathedral again, and to call upon Madame Challard (who had become a widow), and arrived in Paris at night.

The entries in the note-book (kept in Italian) record his visits to the Salon, to the Louvre, and to various public buildings. Also to the Bibliotheque, to study the works of the ecole de Fontainebleau, and to an exhibition of paintings in imitation of tapestry, which much interested him.

He also went with Richard to see Munkacsy's picture of "Christ before Pilate," and notes Richard's astonishment at it. He considered it himself as one of the finest of existing pictures. He also expresses the great pleasure he derived from Jacquemart's water-colors, their brilliancy and sureness of execution.

The four following days having been very busy, received only this short note, "In Parigi con Seeley;" then the fifth has, "Seeley e part.i.to sta mattina."

The succeeding entries record further visits to the Salon, the Louvre, and Bibliotheque; but on the return journey, at Chagny on the 19th, he notes that he has received sad news of the death of M. de Saint Victor, in a duel with M. a.s.selin. It was only too true, and had happened on a day which was to have been a _fete_, for Madame de Saint Victor, whose daughter went to the same school as ours, had invited both myself and Mary, with a few others school-fellows and their mothers, to lunch at the Chateau de Monjeu, of which her husband was Regisseur. The unfortunate lady did not know what had pa.s.sed between her husband and a gentleman of the locality who was trespa.s.sing on the grounds of the chateau. M. de Saint Victor considered himself insulted, and challenged M. a.s.selin; he, moreover, insisted upon choosing the sword as a weapon--the most dangerous of all in a serious duel--and on the morning which should have been festive and mirthful, he fell dead in the wood near his home, killed by a sword-thrust from his skilful adversary.

As soon as he was back home, Mr. Hamerton set to work regularly at the "Graphic Arts." In the diary this phrase is repeated like a litany: "Worked with great pleasure at my book, the 'Graphic Arts.'" But at the same time there is a complaint that it prevents the mind from being happily disposed for artistic work. I have already said how difficult it was for him to turn from one kind of occupation to another. Here is a confirmation of this fact:--

"I lost the whole of the day in attempting to make a drawing for an etching. Was not in the mood. It is necessary to have a certain warmth and interest in a subject--which I have lost, but hope to recover. For a long time past all my thoughts have turned upon my literary work."

It is easy for readers of the "Graphic Arts" to realize what an amount of knowledge and preparation such a book required; and to present so much information in a palatable form was no less than a feat. Still, the author took great delight in his work. As in the case of "Etching and Etchers," he was encouraged by the publisher, who wrote on June, "I mean to take a pride in the book." It was exactly the sort of work which suited him--sufficiently important to allow the subjects to be treated at length when necessary, and worthy of the infinite care and thought he liked to bestow upon his studies. In this case, wonderful as it seems, he had himself practised all the arts of which he speaks, with the exception of fresco. As to the other branches of art, namely, pen-and-ink, silver-point, lead-pencil, sanguine, chalk, charcoal, water monochrome, oil monochrome, pastel, painting in oil, painting in water-colors, wood-engraving, etching and dry-point, aquatint and mezzotint, lithography, he had--more or less--tried every one of them.

And though he did not give sufficient practice to the burin to acquire real skill, still he did not remain satisfied till he could use it.

The same feeling of conscientiousness led him to become acquainted with all the different processes of reproduction so much in vogue, and he was ever anxious to learn all their technical details.

It was hoped that the "Graphic Arts" might be published at the end of the year, and in order to be ready, the author put aside all other work, excepting that of the "Portfolio;" but he longed for a short holiday, and meant to take it on the Saone. He went to Chalon to a boat-builder, and explained the changes to be made in the "Morvandelle," set the men to work, and returned to his book.

He had begun to suffer from insomnia, and Mr. Seeley wrote:--

"Probably you are right in saying that yachting is a necessity for you; but for the enjoyment of it you are badly placed at Autun. You must look after that cottage at Cowes, which I suggested some time ago; and we must set up a yacht between us; only, unluckily, I am always seasick in a breeze."

Certainly the situation of Autun was not favorable to yachting, the streams about it being only fit for canoeing; but the broad Saone was not far off, and as Chalon was my husband's headquarters when cruising, he was not disinclined to the short journey which afforded an opportunity for visiting my mother and my brother, who lived there.

My husband had thought that a river voyage would be charming with R. L.

Stevenson as a companion, and that they might, perhaps, produce a work in collaboration, so he had made the proposal, and here is part of the answer:--

"RINNAUD COTTAGE, PITLOCHRY, PERTHSHIRE.

"MY DEAR MR. HAMMERTON,--(There goes the second M: it is a certainty.) Thank you for your prompt and kind answer, little as I deserved it, though I hope to show you I was less undeserving than I seemed. But just might I delete two words in your testimonial? The two words 'and legal'

were unfortunately winged by chance against my weakest spot, and would go far to d.a.m.n me.

"It was not my bliss that I was interested in when I was married; it was a sort of marriage _in extremis_; and if I am where I am, it is thanks to the care of that lady who married me when I was a mere complication of cough and bones, much fitter for an emblem of mortality than a bridegroom.

"I had a fair experience of that kind of illness when all the women (G.o.d bless them I) turn round upon the streets and look after you with a look that is only too kind not to be cruel. I have had nearly two years of more or less prostration. I have done no work whatever since the February before last, until quite of late. To be precise, until the beginning of the last month, exactly two essays. All last winter I was at Davos; and indeed I am home here just now against the doctor's orders, and must soon be back again to that unkindly haunt 'upon the mountains visitant--there goes no angel there, but the angel of death.'

The deaths of last winter are still sore spots to me.... So you see I am not very likely to go on a 'wild expedition,' cis-Stygian at least. The truth is, I am scarce justified in standing for the chair, though I hope you will not mention this; and yet my health is one of my reasons, for the cla.s.s is in summer.

"I hope this statement of my case will make my long neglect appear less unkind. It was certainly not because I ever forgot you or your unwonted kindness; and it was not because I was in any sense rioting in pleasures.

"I am glad to hear the catamaran is on her legs again; you have my warmest wishes for a good cruise down the Saone: and yet there comes some envy to that wish; for when shall I go cruising? Here a sheer hulk, alas! lies R. L. S. But I will continue to hope for a better time, canoes that will sail better to the wind, and a river grander than the Saone.

"I heard, by the way, in a letter of counsel from a well-wisher, one reason of my town's absurdity about the chair of Art: I fear it is characteristic of her manners. It was because you did not call upon the electors!

"Will you remember me to Mrs. Hamerton and your son? and believe me,"

etc., etc.

In September we had the pleasure of a visit from Miss Betham-Edwards, and the acquaintance ripened into friendship.

Having brought the "Graphic Arts" satisfactorily forward, my husband thought that he might indulge in the longed-for holiday on the Saone. He expected to find everything ready at Chalon, and to have only to superintend the putting together of the sections of the boat. He was, however, sorely disappointed on finding that nothing had been done, and that he must spend several days in pushing the workmen on, instead of sailing pleasantly on the river. After a week of worry and irritation the boat was launched, and the two boys having joined their father on board, they went together as far as Tournus, after spending the first night at Port d'Ouroux, where they had found a nice little inn, with simple but good accommodation. In the afternoon Stephen went back to Autun to fetch his things, for he was obliged to be at his post on the first of October. Richard proceeded with his father down the Saone to Macon. The diary says:--

"Sept. 30. A beautiful voyage it was. The loveliest weather, favorable wind, strong, delightful play of light and color on water. I had not enjoyed such boating since I left Loch Awe."

There are these notes in the diary:--

"Nov. 26. Corrected the last proof of the 'Graphic Arts,' and sent it off with a new finish, as the other seemed too abrupt. Spent a good deal of time over the finish, writing it twice."