“I am much obliged by your MS., which will duly appear as a leader tomorrow,” writes another editor.
Her book, too, was exciting no small interest, and the consequent letters, enquiries and reviews[[105]]—very lengthy reviews in some cases—were a preoccupation in themselves. Any day might bring the opening up of a new vista.
“Sept, 11th.
Darling Mother,
I have but a moment to send you a piece of news that I know will be very welcome, viz, that A Scotchman resident in India called on me last night, asked how matters were progressing, said the battle was being gallantly fought, and departed after stating mildly that he would send us ‘a thousand pounds at once and more if needed,’ that the fight might not fail for want of money! The money is worth a great deal, but the moral effect is almost more, as the man is an absolute stranger and cares simply for the principle.
Probably now we shall get a lot more.
Yours lovingly,
Soph.
His name is Walter Thomson, he had just read my book. (Not a bad 2s. 6d. worth, was it?)”
It is impossible to exaggerate the reverence—“respect” is too weak a word—with which S. J.-B. throughout life treated the money that came to her in this way. It was infinitely more precious to her than possessions of her own: and the amount of the donation made no difference. If it was not to be used immediately, it was invested with the greatest care and forethought; every penny was strictly accounted for; and no farthing expended on administration, or on any kind of work involved (railway journeys and so forth), was allowed to come out of the fund itself. There never were any “working expenses.” All that was done for love.