And in the House of Commons Mr. Sidney Herbert said: “I have received, not only from medical men, but from many others who have had an opportunity of making observations, letters couched in the highest possible terms of praise. I will not repeat the words, but no higher expressions of praise could be applied to woman, for the wonderful energy, the wonderful tact, the wonderful tenderness, combined with the extraordinary self-devotion, which have been displayed by Miss Nightingale.” Lord Ellesmere was right when he hinted that Miss Nightingale would be likely to do her best to escape all public fuss on her return. The Government had offered her a British man-of-war to take her home; but it was not her way to accept any such outward pomp, and, almost before people knew what had happened, it was found that she had travelled quietly home as Miss Smith in a French vessel, visiting in Paris her old friends the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, and finding that by having embarked at night, at a moment when Scutari was not looking for her departure, her little _ruse_ had been very successful. An eager people had not recognized under the passing incognito of Miss Smith, travelling with her aunt, Mrs. Smith, the great Florence Nightingale whose return they had wished to celebrate. The village gossips at Lea Hurst have it that “the closely veiled lady in black, who slipped into her father’s house by the back door, was first recognized by the family butler,” and it seems a pity to spoil such a picturesque tradition by inquiring into it too closely. [Illustration: The Nightingale Nursing Carriage.] There was great joy among the villagers that “Miss Florence had come home from the wars,” but it was understood that she wished to be quiet, and that bonfires and such-like rejoicings were out of the question. Along the roads near Lea Hurst came troops of people from Derby and Nottingham, and even from Manchester, hoping to catch a glimpse of her; and there is in one of the biographies a vivid account, given by the old lady who kept the lodge gates, of how the park round Lea Hurst was beset by these lingering crowds, how men came without arms or without legs, hoping to see the Queen of Nurses. “But,” added the old lady, “the squire wasn’t a-going to let Miss Florence be made a staring-stock of.” And, indeed, “Miss Florence” must have been in great need of repose, though never to the end of her life would it seem that she was allowed to have much of it; for the very fruitfulness of her work made work multiply upon her hands, and her friend Mrs. Sidney Herbert knew her well when she said that to Florence Nightingale the dearest guerdon of work already done was the gift of more work still to do.