She did not herself long survive, only till July 7th, 1754, leaving an only daughter, who subsequently became Duchess of Northumberland. The Countess herself was the great and intimate friend likewise of Mrs. Rowe; and when this lady died, to the Countess and to Dr. Watts she left those confidential letters to which reference may be made in subsequent pages of the present volume. How far she drew the Doctor from his retreat, how often he visited the lady at her various houses, we have no means of knowing; the friendship continued certainly from 1729 to the close of Watts’ life, and it was probably commenced some time before this date, for the terms of the first letters are those of warm friendship. In 1731 she refers to her children, especially to the son, who was to be in after years a source of such grief to the mother’s heart, and she says, “My young people send their services to you; I assure you my little boy has grown a great proficient in your ‘Songs for Children,’ and sings them with great pleasure.” The lady herself secretly cultivated the recreation of verse, and sometimes forwarded her fancies in this way to the Doctor, but she says, “I beg the favour of you not to give any copy of the enclosed verses, for I would wish my excursions of this kind to be a secret from everybody but you, and a friend or two more, who know that I do not aim at the character of a genius by any attempt of this nature, but am led to them merely to amuse a leisure hour, and speak the sentiments of my heart.” She wrote, however, an elegy on Mrs. Rowe, which called forth an epigram from the Doctor, which was published in his posthumous volume of Miscellanies, “Remnants of Time, employed in Prose and Verse”: Struck with a sight of Philomela’s urn, Eusebia weeps and calls the Muse to mourn; While from her lips the tuneful sorrows fell, The groves confess a rising Philomel.