I have not laughed so much for many a long day. I don’t like all that violent dancing, so we came away directly after the absurd little farce—‘How to Pay the Rent.’ How we did laugh at it to be sure, and the absurdities of that little monkey, Clark. Wright, too, in ‘Paul Pry,’ is quite inimitable. Dear William, how good it was of him! …

Dec. 5.—Just going to the theatre again when news came of poor Harry Morton’s illness. My own dear William, how good he is to every one. And so prompt, too. Touch his heart or his honour, and the Duke himself could not be more quick and decided. The news only came as we were dressing, and to-morrow we are off to Naples to meet poor Mr. Morton, and nurse him.

Dec. 6.—There is no one like Willie. After all the scramble we have had to get ready, he would not take me across when it was so rough. So we have taken two dear little rooms, from day to day, because Willie cannot bear the publicity of an hotel, and I am sure I hate it too, and we are to wait till it is fine enough to cross.

Dec. 9.—Still here; but the wind has gone down almost suddenly within the last three hours, and to-morrow morning I hope we really shall cross. Dear William getting quite worried; I persuaded him to take me to a lecture that was going on, and while we were there the wind went down, and we have been packing up ever since. Twelve o’clock! and William calling to me. I must just put down about Mr…. Good Heaven! What is the matter? I feel so ill—quite—

2.—Statement of Dr. Watson.

‘My name is James Watson, and I am a physician of about thirty years’ standing. In 1854, I was practising at Dover. On the night of the 9th of December in that year, I was sent for hurriedly to see a lady, of the name of Anderton, who had been taken suddenly ill immediately after her return from a lecture at the Town-hall, which she had attended with her husband. The message was brought by the servant from the lodgings where they were living. On our way to the house she told me that “the lady was dying, and the poor gentleman quite distracted.” On arriving at the house I found Mr. Anderton supporting his wife in his arms. He seemed greatly agitated and cried, “For God’s sake be quick—I think she has got the cholera!”

[N.B.—The following portion of Dr. Watson’s statement, relating entirely to the symptoms of Mrs. Anderton’s case, though some details are excluded, and others described as far as possible in non-medical terms, necessarily contains much that must be interesting only to the medical profession, and disagreeable to the general reader. The following paragraph may therefore be passed over, merely noting that the symptoms were such as would be developed in a case of antimonial poisoning.]

‘Mrs. Anderton was on the couch in her dressing-room, partially undressed, but with two or three blankets thrown over her, as she seemed shivering with the cold. There was a good fire in the room, but notwithstanding this and the blankets, her hands and feet were both quite chilly. I asked Mr. Anderton why she had not been got to bed, to which he replied, that she had been, until within a very few moments, so violently sick, that they had been unable to move her. Almost immediately on my arrival this disturbance re-commenced, though there appeared to be now hardly anything left in the stomach.