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 THE WIFE OP THOMAS CARLYLE. 191 executing a sort of leap-frog round me. And they went on clapping their hands, till there arose among them a sudden cry for brandy ! ' Get her some brandy ! ' ' Do, ma'am, swallow this spoonful of brandy; just a spoonful!' For, you see, the sudden solution of the nervous tension with which I have been holding in my anxieties for days — nay, weeks past — threw me into as pretty a little fit of hysterics as you ever saV." Next day she wrote again : " Now just look at that ! If here isn't, at half after eleven, when nobody looks for the Edinburgh post, your letter, two newspapers, and letters from my aunt Anne, Thomas Erskine, and David Aitken besides. I have only as yet read your letter. The rest will keep now. I had a nice letter from Henry Davidson yesterday, as good as a newspaper critic. What pleases me most in this business — I mean the business of your success — is the hearty personal affection towards you that comes out on all hands. These men at Forster's with their cheering — our own people — even old Silvester turning as white as a sheet, and his lips quivering when he tried to express his gladness over the telegraph : all that is positively delightful, and makes the success ' a good joy ' to me. No appearance of envy or grudging in anybody ; but one general, loving, heartfelt throwing up of caps with young and old, male and female ! If we could only sleep, dear, and what you call digest, wouldn't it be nice ? " Carlyle was still away when the end came. She had had gone out to drive as usual, taking with her a favorite dog. At a quiet place near the Victoria Gate, she stopped the carriage to let the creature get out for a run, and drove on slowly, the dog following. Presently a passing brougham struck the dog and threw it down, when she and the lady who was driving the brougham alighted to see if it was hurt. She stood talking a moment with this