The Chart drew for its author a last kind word of recognition from an old friend, when Mr. Mackenzie wrote:—

‘Westbourne College, 1863.

‘ ... I am proud to think that I had any part, however humble, in directing your mind to the Tabular style of teaching; and I am gratified to find that one of whom I had so early formed a favourable opinion, has proved to be so able a worker in the great cause of Education.

‘I hope that you and your sisters, as well as my Godson, quite understand that I entertain for you all the feelings of an old friend, who values you on your own account as well as for the sake of both your Parents.—Believe me to be always your sincere Friend,

C. Mackenzie.’

So, in the best sense the College grew. Not in outward prosperity alone, in teaching power, in class rooms; but within. The invisible fabric of mind, and will, and heart, co-ordinated by one great idea, was slowly being raised. The ‘aborigines,’ as those who were girls of the Cambray House time call themselves, even insist that at no time of her career was Miss Beale’s personal influence so direct as then, when teaching so many subjects herself, and in small classes, she came personally in contact with nearly all the older pupils. All classes had their place and desks in the long hall; but the lowest division had a separate schoolroom as soon as funds justified it, and the rooms of the house, even on occasion those appointed to the Principal, were used as classrooms. Miss Beale did not often teach in the large hall. The young ones were cleared out of their division room when she gave a big lecture; a small class, such as one for German translation, would be taken in her drawing-room. There came a moment when even her bedroom was invaded. Those small classes of mathematics or German were more especially the ones which endeared teacher and pupils to each other. There was always enough personal awe and inspiration about the Lady Principal to ensure a well-prepared lesson from really interested pupils, and often beyond the lesson there would be delightful talk. Iphigenie in Tauris recalls many thoughts beyond German translation, and the verbal exercise itself was deprived of every vestige of dulness by her great interest in the growth and development of words. No noble thought, no fine simile was allowed to pass unnoticed; other poems were compared, or perhaps a passage would be given to be translated into English verse. In the mere suggestion of this, what hope and encouragement lay for many who hardly liked to own their pleasure in such an attempt, or who had found earlier efforts of the kind thwarted by criticism too bracing for beginners! It may indeed be thought that Miss Beale had always an unwarranted admiration for the verse-making of her pupils. If in this she sometimes offended the cause of pure literature, her attitude towards it was yet surely the right one for a teacher.

This must indeed have been one of the happiest periods of her work, when she first came into near touch with the children she had seen grow up about her, and felt herself able to give impetus and training to growing aspirations and developing thought, when her sympathy was constantly appealed to in the way in which she could best give it.

‘It is my peculiar privilege to have spent all my College career in her class, to go through years of her special personal teaching. In later days, when the College assumed larger dimensions, such an experience must have been rare; to those who could claim it, it meant a potent influence for life. How vividly can I recall her sitting on her little dais, scanning the long school-room and discovering anything amiss at the far end of it; or making a tour of inspection to the various classes with a smiling countenance that banished terror.’

So writes one old pupil of that time. Another speaks of that deep tenderness which she ever felt, but often concealed, and was not afraid of showing in a case of special need.

‘When I was almost a child at College I lost my mother, and shall never forget Miss Beale’s tender sympathy and help. She took such interest in my preparation for Confirmation, and brought me herself to my first Communion,—just she and I alone; a day I shall always remember. All through my girlhood she was a kind and ready adviser, and continued her interest throughout my married life. One always felt whatever happened to one, Now I must tell Miss Beale.’