that in virtue not solely of her exalted position and influence, but of her rare personal and domestic virtues as well.  She was then also at the very height of her felicity.  How little she or any one else in that thronging multitude dreamed, that before the close of the coming year the form of the noble Prince, who rode by her side wearing an aspect of such manly beauty and content, and who was so worthy to be her husband, would lie mouldering in the grave! [11]

About the middle of July Mrs. Prentiss with her husband and children left London for Ventnor on the Isle of Wight, where, in spite of cold and rainy weather, she passed two happy months.  With the exception of Chateau d’Oex, no place in Europe had proved to her such a haven of rest.  Miss Scott, the hostess, was kindness itself.  The Isle of Wight in summer is a little paradise; and in the vicinity of Ventnor are some of its loveliest scenes.  Her enjoyment was enhanced by the society of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Abbott, who were then sojourning there.  An excursion taken with Mr. Abbott was doubly attractive; for, as might be inferred from his books, he was one of the most genial and instructive of companions, whether for young or old.  A pilgrimage to the home and grave of the Dairyman’s Daughter and to the grave of “Little Jane,” and a day and night at Alum Bay, were among the pleasantest incidents of the summer at Ventnor.

Of the visit to “Little Jane’s” grave she gives the following account in her journal: 

Aug. 10th.—­To-day being unusually fine, we undertook our long-talked-of expedition to Brading.  On reaching the churchyard we asked a little boy who followed us in if he could point out “Little Jane’s” grave; he said he could and led us at once to the spot.  How little she dreamed that pilgrimages would be made to her grave!  Our pigmy guide next conducted us to the grave-stones, where her task was learned.  “How old are you, little fellow?” I asked. “Getting an to five,” he replied.  “And does everybody who comes here give you something?” “Some don’t.”  “That’s very naughty of them,” I continued; “after all your trouble they ought to give you something.”  A shrewd smile was his answer, and George then gave him some pennies.  “What do you do with your pennies?” I asked.  “I puts them in my pocket.”  “And then what do you do?” “I saves them up.”  “And what then?” “My mother buys shoe’s when I get enough.  She is going to buy me some soon with nails in them!  These are dropping to pieces” (no such thing).  “If that is the case,” quoth George, “I think I must give you some more pennies.”  “Thank you,” said the boy.  “Do you see my sword?” George then asked him if he went to church and to Sunday-school.  “Oh, yes, and there was an organ, and they learned to sing psalms.”  “And to love God?” asked George.  “Yes, yes,” he answered, but not with much unction, and so we turned about and came home.

To Mrs. Stearns, Ventnor, Aug. 24, 1860.