“’Don’t bother, my dear, I think every one would prefer to hear Posie sing.’

“I well remember Laura and myself being admonished by him on our returning from a party at the Cyril Flowers’ in the year 1883, where we had been considerably run by dear Papa and twice introduced to Lord Granville.  We showed such irritability going home in the brougham that my father said: 

“‘It’s no pleasure taking you girls out.’

“This was the only time I ever heard him cross with me.

“He always told us not to frown and to speak clearly, just as my mother scolded us for not holding ourselves up.  I can never remember seeing him indifferent, slack or idle in his life.  He was as violent when he was dying as when he was living and quite without self-pity.

“He hated presents, but he liked praise and was easily flattered; he was too busy even for much of that, but he could stand more than most of us.  If it is a little simple, it is also rather generous to believe in the nicest things people can say to you; and I think I would rather accept too much than repudiate and refuse:  it is warmer and more enriching.

“My father had not the smallest conceit or smugness, but he had a little child-like vanity.  You could not spoil him nor improve him; he remained egotistical, sound, sunny and unreasonable; violently impatient, not at all self-indulgent—­despising the very idea of a valet or a secretary—­but absolutely self-willed; what he intended to do, say or buy, he would do, say or buy at once.

“He was fond of a few people—­Mark Napier, [Footnote:  The Hon. Mark Napier, of Ettrick.] Ribblesdale, Lord Haldane, Mr. Heseltine, Lord Rosebery and Arthur Balfour—­and felt friendly to everybody, but he did not love many people.  When we were girls he told us we ought to make worldly marriages, but in the end he let us choose the men we loved and gave us the material help in money which enabled us to marry them.  I find exactly the opposite plan adopted by most parents:  they sacrifice their children to loveless marriages as long as they know there is enough money for no demand ever to be made upon themselves.

“I think I understood my father better than the others did.  I guessed his mood in a moment and in consequence could push further and say more to him when he was in a good humour.  I lived with him, my mother and Eddy alone for nine years (after my sister Laura married) and had a closer personal experience of him.  He liked my adventurous nature.  Ribblesdale’s [Footnote:  Lord Ribblesdale, of Gisburne.] courtesy and sweetness delighted him and they were genuinely fond of each other.  He said once to me of him: 

“’Tommy is one of the few people in the world that have shown me gratitude.’”

I cannot pass my brother-in-law’s name here in my diary without some reference to the effect which he produced on us when he first came to Glen.