1825. Her love of poetry was conspicuous at so early an age, that I have
before me a tiny album made of small note-paper, into which her favourite
passages were copied for her by her mother's hand before she herself
could write. It looks as if she had carried it about, as another little
girl might have carried a doll. She soon displayed a remarkable memory,
and great quickness of apprehension. When she was quite a young child,
she learned with facility several of the problems of Euclid. As she grew
older, she acquired the French, Italian, and German languages; became a
clever pianoforte player; and showed a true taste and sentiment in
drawing. But, as soon as she had completely vanquished the difficulties
of any one branch of study, it was her way to lose interest in it, and
pass to another. While her mental resources were being trained, it was
not at all suspected in her family that she had any gift of authorship,
or any ambition to become a writer. Her father had no idea of her having
ever attempted to turn a rhyme, until her first little poem saw the light
in print.

When she attained to womanhood, she had read an extraordinary number of
books, and throughout her life she was always largely adding to the
number. In 1853 she went to Turin and its neighbourhood, on a visit to
her aunt, a Roman Catholic lady. As Miss Procter had herself professed
the Roman Catholic Faith two years before, she entered with the greater
ardour on the study of the Piedmontese dialect, and the observation of
the habits and manners of the peasantry. In the former, she soon became
a proficient. On the latter head, I extract from her familiar letters
written home to England at the time, two pleasant pieces of description.



A BETROTHAL