Not the least of its attractions was the garden, upon which he lavished consummate taste and care. The old place was full of traditions of the mighty past, full of memories of the great Duke who died there. Even when Lord Granville had added to it, there was but a very small amount of accommodation. But what of that? It was all the more intimate and friendly. I never remember more than two or three guests, except upon one occasion, when the Duke and Duchess of Teck were staying there. Even then we only sat down eight at dinner. It was wonderful to see the host working away with his red boxes and papers at a little writing-table in the one small drawing-room which served him as office and study. Surrounded by his beautiful wife and children—and one would have thought distracted by the general conversation—he would toil from morning till night, looking up now and then to give utterance to some bright idea, always smiling with such a radiantly happy face, even when affairs must have been pressing upon him the most heavily, for in office or out of office, the leadership of his party in the House of Lords was no trifle. His power of abstraction and detachment was wonderful. I look back upon those old days at Walmer with a feeling of affectionate regret and gratitude. Though Lord Granville was heart and soul a Liberal, socially he was the most fastidious of men. How could it be otherwise with his exquisite taste and upbringing, in the midst of all that was the most refined? His dinners were delightful. His cook, Béguinot, who was at one time with Mr. Frederick Leveson Gower, was a pearl of great price, and the talk was always most exceptionally good.