“Chatsworth is so large that were I living there I should want a Cook’s guide every time I moved.  One picture gallery is full of sketches by Hogarth, and pictures of almost every old master you ever heard of, and some you never heard of.  Opening out of this gallery are great glass doors leading into halls into which the different bedrooms open.  In one bedroom the walls and ceiling were covered with oil paintings, not hanging but literally painted on them.  The bed was a huge four-poster.  The curtains were of heavy brocaded satin.  The windows looked out on terraces, garden and fountains.  I like this room best of all.  We were taken through the state apartments where I saw on a throne a huge chair of state on a platform, with canopy over it, with the Duke’s crest in gold woven upon it.  In one of the drawing-rooms we saw a life-size portrait of Henry VIII., a real true one painted from life, and one of Philip II. of Spain, and of Charles V., and of Anne of Austria.  The Duke had sent special word from London to have the fountains in the park play for us, and we watched them from the window.  They are beautiful.  Such nice shower baths for the marble statues on the terrace!

“The Prince of Wales has often visited Chatsworth, and a funny story was told about one of his visits.  It was after dinner and the drawing-room was full of people.  Whenever Royalty is present it is expected that the men will wear all their decorations.  Well, the Earl of Something-or-other had forgotten one of his, and someone reported this fact to the Prince who sent for the culprit to be brought before him.  At the time the Prince was seated on one of the huge lounges, on which only a giant could sit and keep his feet on the floor.  The Prince was sitting far back and his feet stuck straight out in the air.  When the guilty man was brought up to be reprimanded the attitude of the Prince was far from dignified.  His Royal Highness was not really angry, but he told the poor Earl of Something-or-other that he must write out the oath of the Order that he had forgotten to wear.  It was a long oath and the Earl’s memory was not so long.”

We went from Nottingham to Glasgow.  The date, I find, is May 1, 1900.  It was always Dr. Talmage’s custom to visit the cemetery first, so we drove out to the grave of John Knox.  In Glasgow the Doctor preached at the Cowcaddens Free Church to the usual crowded congregation, and he was compelled to address an overflow meeting from the steps of the church after the regular service.  The best part of Dr. Talmage’s holiday moods, which were as scarce as he could make them because of the amount of work he was always doing, were filled with the delight of watching the eager interest in sightseeing of the two girls, Miss Maud Talmage and my daughter.  In Glasgow we encountered the usual wet weather of the proverbial Scottish quality, and it was Saturday of the week before we ventured out to see the Lakes.  My daughter naively confesses the situation to her journal as follows:—­