the sad tidings of another paralytic stroke, which not only put a stop
to my visit for the present, but rendered it very doubtful whether I
should ever see him again. But the worst fears of his friends were not
yet to be realised.

Early in May the invitation was renewed in a note from himself, which I
availed myself of, too well assured it was a privilege I should enjoy
for the last time. On reaching Abbotsford I found some morning visitors
(Mr. and Mrs. James, etc.) in the drawing-room, but as soon as they were
gone Sir Walter sent for me to his study. I found him seated in his
armchair, but with his habitual politeness he insisted upon rising to
receive me, though he did so with such extreme difficulty I would gladly
have dispensed with this mark of courtesy. His welcome was not less
cordial than usual, but he spoke in a slow and somewhat indistinct
manner, and as I sat close by him I could perceive but too plainly the
change which had taken place since we last met. His figure was unwieldy,
not so much from increased bulk as from diminished life and energy; his
face was swollen and puffy, his complexion mottled and discoloured, his
eyes heavy and dim; his head had been shaved, and he wore a small black
silk cap, which was extremely unbecoming. Altogether, the change was no
less striking than painful to behold. The impression, however, soon wore
off (on finding, as I believed), that his mind was unimpaired and his
warm kindly feelings unchanged.

There was no company, and the dinner party consisted of Mr. and Mrs.
Lockhart, Miss Scott, and myself. Sir Walter did not join us till the
dessert, when he entered, assisted by his servant, and took his place at
the foot of the table. His grandchildren were then brought in, and his
favourite, Johnnie Lockhart, was seated by his side. I must have forgot
most things before I can cease to recall that most striking and