The question asked soon brought a flow of delightful recollection of Charlotte Cushman, Frances Power Cobbe, Grace Greenwood, Kate Field, and the Brownings.  “Yes,” she said, “I dined with them all one winter; they were lovely friends.”  She asked if we would like to see some autograph letters of theirs.  One which seemed specially characteristic of Robert Browning was written on the thinnest of paper in the finest hand, difficult to decipher.  And on the flap of the envelope was a long message from his wife.  Each letter was addressed to “My dearest Hattie,” and ended, “Yours most affectionately.”  There was one most comical impromptu sent to her by Browning, from some country house where there was a house party.  They were greatly grieved at her failure to appear, and each name was twisted into a rhyme at the end of a line.  Sir Roderick Murchison, for instance, was run in thus: 

          As welcome as to cow is fodder-rick
          Would be your presence to Sir Roderick.

A poor pun started another vein.  “You must hear some of Miss Cobbe’s puns,” said Miss Hosmer, and they were so daringly, glaring bad, as to be very good.  When lame from a sprain, she was announced by a pompous butler at a reception as “Miss Cobble.”  “No, Miss Hobble,” was her instant correction.  She weighed nearly three hundred pounds and, one day, complaining of a pain in the small of her back her brother exclaimed:  “O Frances, where is the small of your back?”

Miss Hosmer regarded Grace Greenwood (Mrs. Lippincott) as one of the best raconteurs and wittiest women she had known.  She was with her at some museum where an immense antique drinking cup was exhibited, large enough for a sitz bath.  “A goblet for a Titan,” said Harriet.  “And the one who drained it would be a tight un,” said Grace.

She thought the best thing ever said about seasickness was from Kate Field, who, after a tempestuous trip, said:  “Lemonade is the only satisfactory drink on a sea voyage; it tastes as well coming up as going down.”

* * * * *

The last years of this brilliant and beloved woman were devoted to futile attempts to solve the problem of Perpetual Motion.  I wish she had given us her memories instead.

Helen Ghika was born at Bucharest, Wallachia, the 22nd of January, 1829.  The Ghika family is of an ancient and noble race.  It originated in Albania, and two centuries ago the head of it went to Wallachia, where it had been a powerful and ruling family.  In 1849, at the age of twenty, the Princess was married to a Russian, Prince Koltzoff Massalsky, a descendant of the old Vikings of Moldavia; her marriage has not been a congenial one.

A sketch of the distinguished woman, Helen Ghika, the Princess Massalsky, who, under the nom de plume of Dora D’Istria, has made for herself a reputation and position in the world of letters among the great women of