Of course, I was not always known as the Old Lady of
Threadneedle-street; indeed, I can well remember the feeling of
annoyance with which I saw _Mr. Punch's_ illustration of me in 1847, as
a fat old woman without a trace of beauty, except in my garments, which
were made of bank notes. I have kept a copy of it, and will just pencil
you the outline.

The annoyance was intensified when I found myself handed down to
posterity by him as the _Old_ Lady of Threadneedle-street. He could have
no authority for this picture, seeing that, like the Delphian mystery of
old, I am invisible, and deliver my oracles through my directors.

You are girls, and will quite understand the distress of being thrust
suddenly into old age. Up to 1847 I was young, good-looking, and
attractive, and to be bereft of my youth and romance at one blow; to
know that from henceforth all would be prosaic and business-like, that I
should never again have lovers seeking my favour, was a condition of
extreme pain. I had always prided myself on my figure, but even this
_Mr. Punch_ did not leave me, but told the world that it was due to
tight-lacing. It was very cruel, and I have sometimes thought it was
envy of my position; but let that go. I took counsel with myself, and
determined to face the future with the resolve to be the very nicest old
lady in the world, and to make myself so useful to my fellow-creatures
that they should love me and stand by me even though my first youth had
passed. And I am sure you will agree with me in thinking that I have
accomplished this, and that not only have I kept clear of weakness and
decrepitude, but have achieved for myself a reputation and position
second to no lady in the land.

It has been necessary for me to make this little explanation, otherwise