Why Mr. and Mrs. Garrow called on my mother I do not remember.  Somebody had given them letters of introduction to us, but I forget who it was.  Mr. Garrow was the son of an Indian officer by a high caste Brahmin woman, to whom he was married.  I believe that unions between Englishmen and native women are common enough.  But a marriage, such as that of my wife’s grandfather I am assured was, is rare, and rarer still a marriage with a woman of high caste.  Her name was Sultana.  I have never heard of any other name.  Joseph Garrow, my father-in-law, was sent to England at an early age, and never again saw either of his parents, who both died young.  His grandfather was an old Scotch schoolmaster at Hadley, near Barnet, and his great-uncle was the well known Judge Garrow.  My father-in-law carried about with him very unmistakable evidence of his eastern origin in his yellow skin, and the tinge of the white of his eyes, which was almost that of an Indian.  He had been educated for the bar, but had never practised, or attempted to do so, having while still a young man married a wife with considerable means.  He was a decidedly clever man, especially in an artistic direction, having been a very good musician and performer on the violin, and a draughtsman and caricaturist of considerable talent.  The lady he married had been a Miss Abrams, but was at the time he married her the widow of (I believe) a naval officer named Fisher.  She had by her first husband one son and one daughter.  There had been three Misses Abrams, Jewesses by race undoubtedly, but Christians by baptism, whose parent or parents had come to this country in the suite of some Hanoverian minister, in what capacity I never heard.  They were all three exceptionally accomplished musicians, and seem to have been well known in the higher social circles of the musical world.  One of the sisters was the authoress of many once well known songs, especially of one song called “Crazy Jane,” which had a considerable vogue in its day.  I remember hearing old John Cramer say that my mother-in-law could, while hearing a numerous orchestra, single out any instrument which had played a false note—­and this he seemed to think a very remarkable and exceptional feat.  She was past fifty when Mr. Garrow married her, but she bore him one daughter, and when they came to Florence both girls, Theodosia, Garrow’s daughter, and Harriet Fisher, her elder half-sister, were with them, and at their second morning call both came with them.

The closest union and affection subsisted between the two girls, and ever continued till the untimely death of Harriet.  But never were two sisters, or half-sisters, or indeed any two girls at all, more unlike each other.