She was, for instance, full of joy and gaiety when Christmas-time was coming and the Christmas tree in near prospect. I do not think that Charles Dickens himself exceeded her in love for that beautiful and touching festival. It was then that she gave full vent to a nature that teemed with kindness and generosity. Few who were privileged to see it could forget the suppressed excitement with which she led her guests, family and household, to the room where the Christmas tree was ablaze in all its glory. On it was sure to be found some present, large or small, for every one.
One Christmas I well remember, I had recently returned from America, where I had acquired the habit of drinking iced-water.
My refusing claret had been a constant source of banter from Sir Charles and Lady Hallé, and more boisterous expressions from my friends, Ludwig and Waldemar Neruda, Lady Hallé's sons, on the occasions of my dining with them.
My present proved to be a purse. When I took it, Lady Hallé called out, clapping her hands, "Open it." This, of course, we did.
It contained a Swedish gold coin, and a sheet of notepaper on which was written, "The future Mrs. Ernest Ford. The secret revealed. Why Mr. Ford became a teetotaler!"
The incident is quite trivial, but it certainly gives a glimpse into the character of a truly great and noble woman, that would be little suspected by those who knew her only as an outstanding figure in public life.
It is only natural to suppose that Lady Hallé was a constant recipient of appeals for advice from young aspirants, eager to emulate, in however humble a degree, her career.
She was ever open to them, and her judgment, sane and tried, was freely at their disposal. The last years of her life were, unhappily, darkened by the deaths of her two sons; that of the former, tragically, on the Alps; the other, after long suffering, in Brünn.
If for no other achievement, Wilma Neruda would go down to history as one of the notable women who indicated a new career for her sex. But she did more. She left behind her a fame that time itself will not easily efface.