It was the pleasure of the Duchess, in her later days, to receive, without ceremony, Lady Mary and her daughter Lady Bute, who frequently sat by her Grace while she dined, or went through the process of casting up her accounts. Both Lady Mary and her daughter were especial favourites, and enjoyed, accordingly, the rare fortune of never quarrelling with her grace. To them she unfolded the events of her long and harassing life; to them she communicated, with tears, the anecdote, so often quoted, of her cutting off the fair and luxuriant hair of which she was even, at that age, proud, to provoke her stoical husband, when he had one day offended her. The mode in which the provocation was offered, and was received, was characteristic of both parties. The Duchess placed the tresses which the Duke had prized in an antechamber, through which he must often necessarily pass, in order that they might attract his view. The Duke showed no symptoms of observation and vexation, appeared as calm as was his wont, and the Duchess thought that her scheme had failed: she sought her ringlets, but they had disappeared. Years afterwards, she discovered them in a cabinet belonging to the Duke, after his death, amongst other articles which she knew he prized the most of all his precious collections. And at this point of her story, the Duchess, as well she might, melted into tears.[356] The noble, kind heart which had been devoted to her was cold in the grave, and those of her family who remained, were worse than indifferent to her joys or her woes.