[192] Mary Berry died 20th Nov., 1852; Agnes Berry, Jan., 1852. They were buried in one grave in Petersham churchyard, 'amidst scenes'—says Lord Carlisle's inscription—'which in life they had frequented & loved.' H. F. Chorley (Autobiography, etc., 1873, vol. i., p. 276) describes them as 'more like one's notion of ancient Frenchwomen than anything I have ever seen; rouged, with the remains of some beauty, managing large fans like the Flirtillas, etc., etc., of Ranelagh.' See also Extracts from Miss Berry's Journals and Correspondence, 1783-1852, edited by Lady Theresa Lewis, 1865.
[193] Trevelyan's Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, ch. v.
[194] This is engraved in vol. ix. of Cunningham, facing the Index; while the Müntz, above referred to, forms the frontispiece to vol. viii.
[195] The writer of the obituary notice in the Gentleman's Magazine for March, 1797, says that Dance's portrait is 'the only faithful representation of him [Walpole].' Against this must be set the fact that it was not selected by the editor of his works; and, besides being in profile, it is certainly far less pleasing than the Lawrence.
[196] It must, by his own account, have been peculiar. 'Walking is not one of my excellences,' he writes. 'In my best days Mr. Winnington said I tripped like a peewit; and if I do not flatter myself, my march at present is more like a dabchick's' (Walpole to Lady Ossory, 18 August, 1775).
[197] Anecdotes, etc., by L. M. Hawkins, 1822, pp. 105-6.
[198] 'I have lately become acquainted with your friend Mr. Walpole, and am quite charmed with him.'—writes Malone to Lord Charlemont in 1782. 'There is an unaffected benignity and good nature in his manner that is, I think, irresistibly engaging' (Hist. MSS. Commission, 12th Rept., App., Pt. x., 1891, p. 395).
[199] Tonton. See note to p. [250].
[200] Another passage in the Walpoliana (i. 71-2) explains this: 'Regularly after breakfast, in the summer season, at least, Mr. Walpole used to mix bread and milk in a large bason, and throw it out at the window of the sitting-room, for the squirrels; who, soon after, came down from the high trees, to enjoy their allowance.'
[201] 'I cannot go up or down stairs without being led by a servant. It is tempus abire for me: lusi satis' (Walpole to Pinkerton, 15 May, 1794).