‘We brought with us Adam Smith’s work on the Minor Prophets, and also Jane Austen’s Persuasion. At first we stuck to the Prophets, but at last Jane got a hearing, and since then she has utterly ousted the Prophets. It has been rather amusing to note how many excellent reasons there were for giving Jane the preference. Miss Beale was—tired—or sleepy—or not very well, and could not attend to anything that required thought—or it was near lunch—or tea—or supper-time, and therefore it was not worth while, etc. etc., and I think she has really liked the story very much. Please tell Miss Alice Andrews,—it is her book, and Miss Beale at first refused to bring it, but thought I might do so, as it might amuse me. The result of the experiment is that we are now going to read some of Scott’s, beginning with The Antiquary. Miss Beale is very much better, though of course far from being her former energetic self. But we have still more than a fortnight before us, and if she makes as much progress in that time as she has done in the fortnight just gone, we may be very well satisfied.
‘Bath is a very pretty place, but, of course, I have not seen much of it. Miss Beale is now able to take short walks; to-day she went to Milsom Street.
‘I have written such multitudes of letters that I really do not know to whom they have all been.’
Miss Beale was able to return to work before the end of the term. She seemed in most ways as vigorous as ever. A doctor, whom she consulted about her deafness in 1903, told her she had the pulse of a woman of forty. But she became more and more careful about her health. Her summer holidays were spent at Oeynhausen, where she followed a ‘Kur.’ There she took with her always some friend who devoted herself to the care of Miss Beale, and at the same time was a congenial companion, reading aloud to her, or listening while Miss Beale read. On one occasion Miss Amy Giles went, on another Fräulein Grzywacz. The life at the baths was carefully planned even to minutes. Miss Beale liked to have her morning letters before the early walk, which the daily régime demanded. While waiting for the postman, even watching his appearance along the street, she would have some deep book read aloud to her, able to give her whole attention. ‘The postman is just here, Miss Beale,’ Fräulein Grzywacz would say, as she finished a chapter. ‘He is still ten doors off, you can read another paragraph,’ would be the reply.
In 1902 a determined and successful effort was made to get a worthy portrait of Miss Beale. Early in the College history a picture, which bore but a faint resemblance to the original and was wholly unworthy of her, had been painted, and at a Council meeting in 1873 it was ‘resolved that it be placed (veiled) over the door of the Council room, as most in accordance with the wishes of the donors.’ In 1889 the Council itself approached Miss Beale on the subject of a portrait, Sir Samuel Johnson, then chairman, writing to her:—
‘February 25, 1889.
‘You cannot, you must not leave the College without something that will identify it with the Founder. Fancy what unavailing attempts will be made some day to supply the want! and the blame which will attach to us for not having left something behind worthy of such a woman! Think again, and do not let your feelings stand in the way of a plain duty.’
On the envelope containing this letter Miss Beale wrote in pencil the characteristic note: ‘Miss Stirling might make a clay or terra-cotta.’ A modelling class had recently been opened in the College under Miss Stirling; Miss Beale was much interested in it and anxious to encourage it.
The wish of the Council took the form of a resolution to which Miss Beale replied:—