recognised my fellow lodger of the Red Lion. I was apparently
recognised as well; he looked as if he could scarce wait for me
to be kind to him, and in fact didn't wait. Seeing I had a
catalogue he asked the name of the portrait. On my satisfying him
he appealed, rather timidly, as to my opinion of the lady.

"Well," said I, not quite timidly enough perhaps, "I confess she
strikes me as no great matter."

He remained silent and was evidently a little abashed. As we
strolled away he stole a sidelong glance of farewell at his
leering shepherdess. To speak with him face to face was to feel
keenly that he was no less interesting than infirm. We talked of
our inn, of London, of the palace; he uttered his mind freely,
but seemed to struggle with a weight of depression. It was an
honest mind enough, with no great cultivation but with a certain
natural love of excellent things. I foresaw that I should find
him quite to the manner born--to ours; full of glimpses and
responses, of deserts and desolations. His perceptions would be
fine and his opinions pathetic; I should moreover take refuge
from his sense of proportion in his sense of humour, and then
refuge from THAT, ah me!--in what? On my telling him that I was a
fellow citizen he stopped short, deeply touched, and, silently
passing his arm into my own, suffered me to lead him through the
other apartments and down into the gardens. A large gravelled
platform stretches itself before the basement of the palace,
taking the afternoon sun. Parts of the great structure are
reserved for private use and habitation, occupied by state-
pensioners, reduced gentlewomen in receipt of the Queen's bounty
and other deserving persons. Many of the apartments have their