Mrs Disraeli had been describing to me the distinguished manner in which she and her husband had been received at the Court of Louis Philippe, and at that of the President, when she paused, and looking round complacently, exclaimed: “But I do assure you, dear Miss Boyle, I like this sort of thing a great deal better.” The speech reminded me in some measure of that of Caractacus of Rome, yet I could scarcely say that Burghley House reminded me of a humble cottage in Britain. [Illustration: BOWOOD. ] [Sidenote: BOWOOD] Entirely unconnected with the preceding pages, either as to dates, locality, or personages, is the slight sketch, which I cannot refrain from subjoining, of the constant visits I paid to Bowood. My first acquaintance with Lord Lansdowne[55] was made while I was staying with Mrs Sartoris, of whom he was a warm and zealous admirer, and our friendship ripened so quickly, that I could scarcely imagine that I had not known that dear, kind old man all my life. He was a frequent visitor at my little house in London, and a frequent inviter when anything especially agreeable presented itself in the way of a party at Lansdowne House or Bowood. Agreeable indeed must the intercourse with those two houses have ever been to me, for his daughter-in-law who did the honours of both, rivalled my host in kindness, and I rejoice to think that we still meet to talk over those happy days of long ago. All that were remarkable in Politics, Art, and Literature, were constantly grouped round the hospitable board of the Master of Bowood, in that spacious dining-room, illuminated in every sense of the word by the shaded lights round the walls cast on the beautiful _chef-d’œuvres_ of Clarkson Stanfield. It is the only instance I have ever seen of an apartment thus lighted, and the effect is as charming as it is singular. The house is full of Art treasures, of painting and sculpture, all collected by the Lord Lansdowne of whom I am writing,[56] who told me himself that when he first succeeded to the estate, and went to inspect the house at Bowood, the principal furniture consisted of two or three chairs and a looking-glass or so in the bedrooms. Now what luxury, what beauty at every step. As one descends the stairs from the drawing-room leading to the dining-room a magnificent caste of Michel Angelo’s Pensiero[57] arrests attention in a lofty niche, while priceless paintings of Murillo, Rembrandt, Salvator Rosa, etc., decorate the walls; and the lovely features of Mrs Sheridan, as Saint Cecilia, smile upon one from Sir Joshua’s canvas. Footnote 55: Third Marquess of Lansdowne, first known in the political world as Lord Henry Petty. Footnote 56: 1889. Footnote 57: The statue of Lorenzo de Medici.