But in the little room we most lived in, the room with the magic window,
we had crowded a few special favorites of the English school, for we had
so much foreign blood in us that we were more British than John Bull
himself--_plus royalistes que le Roi_.
There was Millais's "Autumn Leaves," his "Youth of Sir Walter Raleigh,"
his "Chill October"; Watts's "Endymion," and "Orpheus and Eurydice";
Burne-Jones's "Chant d'Amour," and his "Laus Veneris"; Alma-Tadema's
"Audience of Agrippa," and the "Women of Amphissa"; J. Whistler's
portrait of his mother; the "Venus and Aesculapius," by E. J. Poynter;
F. Leighton's "Daphnephoria"; George Mason's "Harvest Moon"; and
Frederic Walker's "Harbor of Refuge," and, of course, Merridew's
"Sun-God."
While on a screen, designed by H. S. Marks, and exquisitely decorated
round the margin with golden plovers and their eggs (which I adore),
were smaller gems in oil and water-color that Mary had fallen in love
with at one time or another. The immortal "Moonlight Sonata," by
Whistler; E, J. Poynter's exquisite "Our Lady of the Fields" (dated
Paris, 1857); a pair of adorable "Bimbi" by V. Prinsep, who seems very
fond of children; T. R.
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