Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-03-19
THACKERAY AT HOME.
ACCOUNT BY HIS DAUGHTER OF
A RECEPTION TO AN AUTHOR.


One of the most notable persons who
ever came into our old bow window draw
ing room in Young street is a guest never
to be forgotten by me, a tiny, delicate, lit
tie person, whose small hand nevertheless
grasped mighty lever which set all the
literary world of that day vibrating can
still see the scene quite plainlyi-the hot
summer evening, the open windows, the
carriage driving to the door as we all sat
silent and expectant; my father, who rare
ly waited, waiting with US; our governess
and my sister and all in a row, and pre-
pared for the great event.
We saw the carriage stop, and out of it
sprang the active, well knit figure of Mr..
George Smith, who was bringing Miss
Bronte to see our father. My father, who
had been walking up and down the room,
goes out into the hall to meet his guests,
and then after a moments delay the door
opens wide, and the two gentlemen come
in, leading a tiny, delicate, serious little
lady, pale, with fair, straight hair and
steady eyes. She may be little over thir-
ty; she is dressed in little barege dress
with pattern of faint green moss.
She enters in mittens. in silence, in Sc
robustness; our hearts are beating with
Nllo cACllSulSIl LIS, JIltl, Is JuS duUIIOr~
ess, the unknown power whose books have
set all London talking, reading, speculat-
ing: some people even say our father wrote
the books-the wonderful books.
To say that we little girls had been given
Jane Eyre" to read scarcely represents
the facts of the case, to say that we had
taken it without leave, read bits here and
read bits there, been carried away by an
md naH IF onH hitbartD
whirlwind into things, times, places, all
utterly absorbing and at the same time alb
solutely unintelligible to us, would more
accurately describe our states of mind on
that summers evening as we look at Jane
Eyre-the great Jane Eyre-the tiny little
lady.
The moment is so breathless that dinner
comes as a relief to the solemnity of the
occasion, and we ell smile as my father
stoops to offer his arm, for, genius though
she may be, Miss Bronte can barely reach
his elbow. My own personal impressions
are that she is somewhat grave and stern,
specially to forward little girls who wish
to chatter. Mr.. George Smith has since told
me how she afterward remarked upon my
fathers wonderful forbearance and gentle
ness with our uncalled for incursions into
the conversation. She sat gazing at him
with kindling eyes of interest, lighting up
with a sort of illumination every now and
then as she answered him. | can see her,
bending forward over the table, not eating
but listening to what he said as he carved
the dish before him.
| think it must have been on this very
occasion that my father invited some of
his friends in the evening to meet Miss
Bronte-for everybody was interested and
anxious to see her. Mrs. Grove, the reciter
of ghost stories, was there. Mrs. Brook
field, Mrs. Carlyle, Mr.. Carlyle himself was
there, SO | am told, railing at the appear
ance of cockneys upon Scotch mountain
sides; there were also too many Americans
for his taste, "but the Americans were as
God compared to the cockneys," says the
philosopher. Besides the Carlyles there
were Mrs. Elliott and Miss Perry, Mrs
Proctor and her daughter, most of my
fathers habitual friends and companions
In the recent life of Lord Houghton / was
amused to see note quoted in which Lord
Houghton was also convened. Would that
he had been present!-perhaps the party
would have gone off better. 1t was
gloomy and Il silent evening.
Every one waited for the brilliant con-
versation which never began at all. Miss
Bronte retired to the sofa in the study, and
murmured low word now and then to
our kind governness, Miss Truelock. The
room looked very dark, the lamp began to
smoke little, the conversation grew dim
mer and more dim, the ladies sat around
still expectant, my father was too much
perturbed by the gloom and the silence to
be able to cope with it at all.
Mrs Brookfield, who was in the doorway
by the study, near the corner in which Miss
Bronte was sitting, leaned forward with
little commonplace, since brilliance was
not to be the order of the evening do
you like London, Miss Bronte?" she said;
another silence, pause, then Miss Bronte
answers Eyes" and "No" very gravely,
and there the conversation drops.
My sister and | were much too young to
be bored in those days; alarmed, impressed
we might be, but not yet bored. A party
was party, a lioness was lioness; and
shall | confess it?-at that time an extra
dish of biscuits was enough to mark the
evening. We felt ali the Importance of
the OCCASION: tea spread in the dining
room, ladies in the drawing room; we
roamed about inconveniently, no doubt,
and excitedly and in one of my excursions
crossing the hall l was surprised to see my
on. He put his fingers to his lips, walked
out into the darkness, and shut the door
quietly behind him When 1 went back
me where he was. vaguely answered that
/ thought he was coming back.
was puzzled at the time, nor was it all
made clear to me till long years afterward,
when one day Mrs. Proctor asked me if /
Ena1f- bod boppapa6 opca uvhap NV
father had invited a party to meet Jane
Eyre at his house 1t was one of the dull
est evenings she had ever spent in her life,
she said. And then, with Il good deal of
humor, she described the situation, the Ia
dies who all come expecting so much de-
lightful conversation, and the gloom and
the constraint, and how finally, over
whelmed by the situation, my father had
quietly left the room, left the house and
gone off to his club.
The ladies waited, wondered, and finally
departed also; and as we were going up to
bed with our candles after everybody was
gone, | remember two pretty Miss LIS, in
shiny silk dresses arriving, full of expec-
tation. We still said we thought our
father would soon be back, but the Miss
LIS declined to wait upon the chance,
laughed and drove away again almost i'm
mediately.
Since writing the preceding lines have
visited Jane Eyre-land, and stayed in the
delightful homo where she used to stay
with Mrs Gaske.I. have seen signs ard
tokens of her presence, faint sketches van
ishing away, the delicate writing in the
beautiful book she gave that warm friend;
aid ! have also looked for and reread
the Introduction to Emma" that last
sketch" and most touching chapter in the
never-to-be-written book of Charlotte
Bronte's happy married life. The paper is
signed Nv. L. T." 1t was written by the
euitor. end is printed in one of the very
earliest numbers of The Cornhill Maya