Onlookers have said that Stephen’s care of Fawcett at this time ‘was beautiful to see’; it ‘was almost womanly.’ The two men were curiously different in temperament and traditions. They seem to have shared little but their earlier politics and their love of walking. Stephen, from whom Meredith is said to have modelled his character of Vernon Whitford, was a writer and student, a descendant of writers and students. Though he seems to have much enjoyed the Cambridge society in which he was then living, he was usually the silent member of a company where Fawcett dominated by force of energy if not always by the intrinsic value of what he said. Fawcett’s room was gay with photographs and the flowers which the blind man loved to have about him. His fondness for them was a strong and charming trait. In these days he usually wore a flower in his button-hole. He loved having them about him; through their fragrance and the delicacy of their petals he took in their beauty so completely that he seemed to lose little because he could not see them with his bodily eye. [Sidenote: The Fellows’ Garden on the Cam.] Trinity Hall is in the very heart of Collegiate Cambridge, wedged in between the Senate House and the Cam. Along the river lies the Fellows’ Garden that Henry James has so warmly praised. After Fawcett’s death Stephen spoke of this garden and Fawcett’s love for it. ‘I always associated Fawcett with a garden. He loved a garden because he could there take the exercise in which he delighted without the precautions necessary for a blind man in public places. He loved it because he heartily enjoyed the sweet air and the scent of flowers and the song of birds. He loved it because he could ... enjoy even the sights, the sky and the trees, through the eyes of others. He loved it not least because a garden is the best of all places for those long talks with friends which were among the greatest pleasures of his life. The garden where I oftenest met Fawcett, and where I have talked with him for long hours, never clouded by an unkind word, is the garden of an old Cambridge College with a smooth bowling green, and a terrace walk by the side of the river, and a noble range of old chestnut trees and the grand pinnacles of King’s College Chapel looking down through the foliage.’ Within the limits of his college Fawcett moved freely and alone. He would cross the court and find his way up and down stairs quite unattended, verifying places with his cane. A Cambridge friend tells how his coming would be heralded by his well-known step and by the tapping of that same cane. Announcing himself outside the door with ‘Hello, are you there?’ he would come into the room, waving his stick about to locate objects. A hearty handshake would be followed by some such comment as ‘How well you are looking,’ or ‘I am sorry you are not looking so well to-day,’ this information probably reaching him from the greeting of what was to him the tell-tale voice of his host.