Mr. S. C. Hall was there with
his wife, whom I was glad to see again, for this was the third time of
meeting her, and, in this whirl of new acquaintances, I felt quite as if
she were an old friend. Mr. William Howitt was also there, and
introduced me to his wife,--a very natural, kind, and pleasant lady; and
she presented me to one or two daughters. Mr. Marston, the dramatist,
was also introduced to me; and Mr. Helps, a thin, scholarly, cold sort of
a man. Dr. Mackay and his wife were there, too; and a certain Mr. Jones,
a sculptor,--a jolly, large, elderly person, with a twinkle in his eye.
Also a Mr. Godwin, who impressed me as quite a superior person,
gentlemanly, cultivated, a man of sensibility; but it is quite impossible
to take a clear imprint from any one character, where so many are stamped
upon one's notice at once. This Mr. Godwin, as we were discussing
Thackeray, said that he is most beautifully tender and devoted to his
wife, whenever she can be sensible of his attentions. He says that
Thackeray, in his real self, is a sweet, sad man. I grew weary of so
many people, especially of the ladies, who were rather superfluous in
their oblations, quite stifling me, indeed, with the incense that they
burnt under my nose.
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