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Rh formers. Think of St. Paul's heart-breaking worries with the Churches which were the 'children of his own loins.'

To come, however, to my visit to Morris at Hammersmith.

I arrived in London on the Saturday afternoon. Morris had suggested to me that as he would not be at home till about six o'clock in the evening, I might, should I arrive earlier in the day, look in and have a glance at the Art Exhibition in the New Gallery. This I did, and as we shall afterwards see, it led me into an extraordinary experience.

On my arrival at Kelmscott House, Morris immediately came from his study on the ground floor, and after welcoming me cordially, took me up to my bedroom on one of the upper floors, and, leaving me there for a few moments, returned to introduce me to the 'inhabitants.' 'Here is our Scotchman, but he hasn't come in kilts nor brought bagpipes with him,' said he to Mrs. Morris, who was seated on the famous settle which stood out from the fireplace, doing some embroidery work. She rose and greeted me. I had, of course, heard of her great beauty, and had seen her portrait in some of the reproductions of Rossetti's pictures, but I confess I felt rather awed as she stood up tall before me, draped in one simple white gown which fell from her shoulders down to her feet. She looked a veritable Astarte—a being, as I thought, who did not quite belong to our common mortal mould. After greeting me she resumed her embroidery and listened with amusement to Morris' playful chaff.

'It's lucky for us,' continued Morris, 'that Glasier is not a stickler for the ancient customs of his country; for in my young days we were told that Scotchmen ate nothing but porridge, drank nothing but whisky, and sang one another to sleep with the Psalms of David.'

He pursued this playful vein for a little, giving Mrs. Morris an exaggerated account of some of his experiences in Scotland of the 'wild ways of the Picts.' Mrs. Morris