In his younger days Thomas Bailey Aldrich was not a little of a dandy. This foible led an unusually energetic Boston bluestocking to refer to him in a caustic style on one occasion as “effeminate.”
When a friend told the poet of her remark he smiled grimly.
“So I am,” he assented, “compared with her.”
Tennyson’s customary manner toward women was one of grave and stately courtesy. One evening at Aldworth, Sir Edward Hamley, the soldier and expert writer on the art of war, who had been visiting through the day, rose to take leave. Tennyson pressed him to stay over night, adding: “There are three ladies who wish it,” meaning Mrs. Tennyson and the two guests who were in the house.
“There are three other ladies who oppose it,” Sir Edward answered.
“Who are they?” Tennyson asked.
“The Fates,” Sir Edward replied.
“The Fates may be on one side,” Tennyson rejoined, “but the Graces are on the other.”