CONTENTS
| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| I. | —The Reminiscences of Mistress Cherry.—The Fire, & Double Tide.—Mal-conversation | [1] |
| II. | —Cherry endeavours to remember if she were pretty.—A Water-party | [17] |
| III. | —Result of the Water-party | [36] |
| IV. | —Chelsea Buns | [56] |
| V. | —A Shadow on the House | [77] |
| VI. | —Metanoia | [95] |
| VII. | —Signs in the Air | [114] |
| VIII. | —The Plague | [136] |
| IX. | —Foreshadows | [149] |
| X. | —A Friend in Need | [169] |
| XI. | —Distinction between would & should | [199] |
| XII. | —Camping out in Epping Forest | [207] |
| XIII. | —Ghosts | [226] |
| XIV. | —Riding a Pillion | [243] |
| XV. | —The Squire’s Garden | [259] |
| XVI. | —The Burning City | [284] |
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
From Drawings by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton.
| Frontispiece. Drawn by Herbert Railton | [Frontispiece] |
| PAGE | |
| Title-Page. Designed by Herbert Railton | [iii] |
| Motto. Designed by Herbert Railton | [iv] |
| Old London Bridge. Drawn by Herbert Railton | [1] |
| “My Father’s Shop was on the East Side” Drawn by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton | [6] |
| “One and the same Cradle.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [10] |
| “In the Arbour at the Top of Our House.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [20] |
| “The Back-Room in which he slept was a Lean-to stuck against the Main Wall.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [22] |
| “This Comicality drew Crowds of People.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [31] |
| “Gossiping with Hugh Braidfoot.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [42] |
| “The Gay Party set out.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [63] |
| “Looked out on the Bridge.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [66] |
| “I found her on her Knees.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [82] |
| “And so the Good Man went.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [105] |
| “We let our windows.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [116] |
| “And now a shocking Sight was to be seen at the Bridge Gate.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [122] |
| “Houses were shut up.” Drawn by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton | [136] |
| “Keeping the Gates with much Jealousy.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [140] |
| “I made for Cheapside.” Drawn by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton | [158] |
| “A Party of disorderly Young Men.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [166] |
| “There he lay.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [179] |
| “We had Words about it.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [212] |
| “I saw some Women passing through the Trees.” Drawn by John Jellicoe | [222] |
| “The Old Garden with the Iron Gate.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [231] |
| “An old Red-Brick House.” Drawn by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton | [248] |
| “A Bowling-Green of wonderful fine Turf.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [260] |
| In the Squire’s Garden. Drawn by John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton | [264] |
| Cherry’s wedding leaving the Church. Drawn by John Jellicoe | [279] |
| “St. Paul’s was now in a Blaze.” Drawn by Herbert Railton | [294] |
Introduction
SO reticent was Miss Manning in her lifetime, and so loyally have her wishes been obeyed by her kindred since her death, that when Mr. Nimmo last year re-published her beautiful memorial portrait, “The Household of Sir Thomas More,” it was clear that whatever of her personal history had ever been known had been already forgotten. She had indeed been confused, in a Biographical Dictionary, with another writer: it even needed the assurance of her surviving niece to convince inquirers that she lived and died unmarried. Thus to live and die, “the world forgetting, by the world forgot,” was what the gentle spirit chose. To be known through her books, and loved, there can be little question, was her ambition, and it was a wish which I cannot doubt is fulfilled. The “author of ‘Mary Powell,’” as she styled herself on her title-pages, has left several exquisite little studies, highly appreciated when they first saw the light, and still worthy, as it seems to me, of that kind of immortality of regard which is won by those writers whom none of us would place in the first rank of Literature, but whom all who know them remember with something of a personal affection. When I say that Miss Manning reminds me of Miss Rossetti, I do not mean that the earlier writer has the genius of the most perfect poet that ever, in the English tongue, linked the highest aspirations of Religion with the most exquisite expressions of Poetry; but rather that their minds were both beautiful, their experiences pathetic, their hearts true. They would walk together in Paradise, and understand each other: when our Lady of Sorrows sings “Magnificat,” they would stand by, and their souls would echo to her song. The matter of the work of each is very different, yet in the manner there is something indescribably akin. Christina Rossetti is one of the greatest writers of the century; but, unique though she is, and unapproachable in her sphere, in the land below her the author of “Mary Powell” has thought some of the same thoughts, and thought them in the same way.