FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH MIDDLE AGE Shelley and the two girls, in their flight from the deplorable Hogg, had decided to go to the Lakes. There was a sentimental reason for this, very like his choice of Poland Street. Two great poets, both Liberals, Southey and Coleridge, had long lived in the Lake District and by some happy chance it might be that Shelley would make their acquaintance. Nothing could have delighted him more than to meet some of the rare great minds that shared his ideas. The Shelleys found at Keswick a small furnished cottage set in flowers. They had no right to the garden, but the landlord, who looked upon Shelley and Harriet as little better than a pair of strayed children, allowed them to run about in it. The postman soon came to know the weight of Shelley’s letter-bag. First, there was the correspondence with Hogg, which was very discouraging. He wrote long letters to Harriet in which he swore to respect her, and at the same time, to adore her during time and eternity. Such unasked-for constancy wearied her, yet her pride fed on it. When Shelley said, “Time and distance will make him forget you,” she shook her head with an air of scepticism. Really sorry for the unhappiness of her admirer, she would perhaps have been more sorry to believe it could be cured: “Distance,” said she, “may ease trifling griefs, but only increases great ones.” When Hogg wrote, “Either Harriet must forgive me or I’ll blow out my brains at her feet,” she triumphed and was sad. But when no pistol-shot came to shatter their flowery solitude, she was reassured—and disappointed. Then, there were the letters of Miss Hitchener who, since the fall of Hogg, had become Shelley’s only confidante. Nearly every day he sent her a few urgent and exemplary pages. Harriet would often add to her husband’s eloquent dissertations a warm invitation to come and join them. The Duke of Norfolk lived in the neighbourhood. He had already brought about one reconciliation between Shelley and his father, and as the money question became more and more serious they decided to write to him again. The Duke replied by inviting Shelley, his wife, and his sister-in-law to spend the week-end at Greystoke. He took an interest in the young man possibly through natural benevolence, possibly because it was his duty, as head of a great political party, to win the friendship of one, destined it would seem when he came of age, to go into Parliament, and to inherit £6,000 a year.