‘I need not say how much pleasure it has afforded me to be the medium of conveying to you Her Imperial Majesty’s gracious message, and, I remain, yours sincerely, FRANK S. RUSSELL.’ Two years later the Princess Henry of Battenberg came to unveil a marble bust of Queen Victoria, the work of Countess Feodora Gleichen, which had been presented to the College. [Illustration: _The Empress Frederick at Cheltenham_ _from a photograph by Mr. Domenico Barnett_] Among Miss Beale’s triumphs of this period should surely be mentioned her mastery of the tricycle at the age of sixty-seven. It became a great delight to her. She used it chiefly in the early morning—often very early—when the streets were empty. ‘The men in the milk-carts know me and keep out of my way,’ she would say. She greatly enjoyed the fresh air and complete solitude gained with so little effort. In 1898 England received a severe visitation of small-pox. No town in the country suffered more than Gloucester, where for long it raged among the unvaccinated, and even devoted nurses and doctors fell victims. It was five times introduced into Cheltenham, but owing, Miss Beale was pleased to hint in the Magazine, to the healthiness of the climate and the good sanitation of the town, it never got a hold there. Cheltenham largely owed its immunity to the exertions of the Lady Principal, who insisted on revaccination where it was necessary for every one connected with the College. This meant not only teachers, pupils, servants, but all who had to do with any College girl in any capacity—all in the homes of the day-pupils—all in the shops which served the boarding-houses—the whole railway staff at the different stations. The College custom was too good to lose, and she carried her point. Such a drastic measure had its comic side, as was perceived by the saucy butcher-boy who shouted to a boarding-house cook, ‘I must know if you are vaccinated before I deliver this meat.’ Among the College victims was a girl within a few weeks of an important examination. The daughter of an anti-vaccinator, she had of course never been ‘done,’ and the father telegraphed that he would not permit it. A married sister staying in the town urged the College authorities to act on their own responsibility; but that Miss Beale would not do. The girl made another appeal to her father; but a cab was actually at the door to take her to the station, when his answer arrived in the second telegram—‘May do as she pleases.’ This modified permission saved the situation. Miss Beale’s determined and successful action in this matter was doubtless remembered when, in 1901, the Mayor and Corporation resolved to bestow upon her the freedom of the borough. This was ceremonially done on October 28, the Town Council, Governing Body of the College, and a large number of Miss Beale’s friends being present.