She drew me from my cosy seat,
She drew me to her cruel feet,
She whispered, "Call me Sally!"
I lived upon her smile, her sigh,
Alas, you fool, I knew not I
Was only her pis-aller.
The jade! she knew her business well,
She made each hour a heaven or hell,
For she could coax and rally;
She was SO loving, frank and kind,
That no suspicion crost my mind
That I was her pis-aller.
My brother says "I told you so!
Her conduct was not comme il faut,
But strictly comme il fallait;
She swore that she was fond and true;
No doubt she was, poor girl, but you
Were only her pis-aller."
He asked me what I would like him to give me for a birthday present, and I said:
"If you want to give me pleasure, take me down to your father's country house for a Saturday to Monday."
This Lionel arranged; and he and I went down to Aldworth,
Haslemere, together from London.
While we were talking in the train, a distinguished old lady got in. She wore an ample black satin skirt, small black satin slippers in goloshes, a sable tippet and a large, picturesque lace bonnet. She did not appear to be listening to our conversation, because she was reading with an air of concentration; but, on looking at her, I observed her eyes fixed upon me. I wore a scarlet cloak trimmed with cock's feathers and a black, three- cornered hat. When we arrived at our station, the old lady tipped a porter to find out from my luggage who I was; and when she died —several years later—she left me in her will one of my most valuable jewels. This was Lady Margaret Beaumont; and I made both her acquaintance and friendship before her death.
Lady Tennyson was an invalid; and we were received on our arrival by the poet. Tennyson was a magnificent creature to look at. He had everything: height, figure, carriage, features and expression. Added to this he had what George Meredith said of him to me, "the feminine hint to perfection." He greeted me by saying:
"Well, are you as clever and spurty as your sister Laura?"
I had never heard the word "spurty" before, nor indeed have I since. To answer this kind of frontal attack one has to be either saucy or servile; so I said nothing memorable. We sat down to tea and he asked me if I wanted him to dress for dinner, adding: