At this time Colonel Clive, of the Grenadier Guards, was a frequent visitor. I was really fond of him, and he pleased me by his pleasure in hearing me sing to my own accompaniment. I spent some happy hours in doing so for him when staying at Claridge's Hotel with my sister, and I remember that when I knew he was coming I used to twist a blue ribbon in my hair to please him. Once, when staying at Claridge's, my sister and I went to his rooms to see the sketches of a friend of my brother Evelyn's, Mr. Hozier, the clever newspaper {14} correspondent, afterwards Sir H. Hozier, and father of Mrs. Winston Churchill. The drawings were, I believe, very clever, and I know the tea was delicious. It was some time after this that the 18th Hussars were stationed at Brighton. Willie loved early morning gallops on the Downs, and, on one occasion, he rode off soon after daybreak on his steeplechaser, Early Bird, for a gallop on the race-course. At the early parade that morning Willie was missing, and, as inquiries were being made as to his whereabouts, a trooper reported that Early Bird had just been brought in dead lame, and bleeding profusely from a gash in the chest. He had been found limping his way down the hill from the race-course. Willie's brother officers immediately set out to look for him, and found him lying unconscious some twenty yards from a chain across the course which was covered with blood, and evidently the cause of the mishap. They got him down to the barracks on a stretcher, and there he lay with broken ribs and concussion of the brain. He told us afterwards that he was going at a hard gallop, and neither he nor Early Bird had seen the chain till they were right on it, too late to jump. There had never been a chain up before, and he had galloped over the same course on the previous morning. I was at Rivenhall when I heard of the accident to Willie, and for six unhappy weeks I did little else than watch for news of him. My sister, Lady Barrett-Lennard, and Sir Thomas had gone to Preston Barracks to nurse him, and as soon as it was possible they moved him to their own house in Brighton. For six weeks he lay unconscious, and then at last the good news came that he was better, and that they were going to take him to Belhus to convalesce. {15} A great friend of Willie's, also in the 18th--Robert Cunninghame Graham--was invited down to keep him amused, and my sister, Mrs. Steele, and I met them in London and went down to Belhus with them. Willie was looking very ill, and was tenderly cared for by his friend Graham. He was too weak to speak, but, while driving to Belhus, he slipped a ring from his finger on to mine and pressed my hand under cover of the rugs.