‘I think _you_ may be willing to help _me_ in the plan chiefly for the last four or five years in my mind, of getting a girls’ choral service well organised in a college chapel. The most beautiful service I have ever heard in any church of any country is that of the Convent of the Trinità at Rome, entirely sung by the sisters, unseen; and quite my primary idea in girl education—peasant or princess, is to get the voice perfectly trained in the simplest music of noblest schools. Finding your organist is a girl, and that she is interested in the book on Plain Chant I sent her, it seems to me my time has come, and I am going to write to Miss Lefevre at Somerville, Miss Gladstone at Newnham, and Miss Welch at Girton, to beg them to consider with you what steps they could take to this end. If _you_ could begin by giving enough time for the training of the younger girls, I think I could, with that foundation, press for a more advanced action in the matter at Cambridge and Oxford.’ Miss Beale obviously replied to this with some questions about the training of the choir, for Mr. Ruskin’s next and rapidly following letter closes thus:— ‘As for the choir, nothing is necessary but a due attention to girls’ singing, as well as their dancing. It ought to be as great a shame for a girl not to be able to sing, up to the faculty of her voice, might I say, as to speak bad grammar. You could never rival the Trinità di Monte, but could always command the chanting of the psalms with sweetness and clearness, and a graceful Te Deum and Magnificat.’ Besides the organ, Miss Beale’s wedding gifts included the first light of a stained-glass window above the new grand staircase. This was drawn by Miss Thompson, and executed by Clayton and Bell. Miss Beale herself chose the subject for the whole—a series of scenes from her beloved story of ‘Britomart.’ Over and above the opening of the new buildings, and the installation of the wedding gifts, there was in the early part of the summer term some excitement and much pleasant sense of preparation for the gathering of old pupils fixed for the 6th and 7th of July. Then, into the midst of the glad anticipation, came as with transcendent suddenness Mrs. Owen’s death on June 19. Hers was indeed ‘a spirit that went forth And left upon the mountain-tops of death A light that made them lovely.’ But for many the happiness of the coming meeting was marred, most of all for her in whose honour it had been largely arranged. Miss Beale made no change, but went through all the proceedings as they had been planned, dwelling never for a moment on her sense of bereavement and loss, but speaking calmly even in public of the life that had passed out of sight.