Dominant, however, as was the father’s personality among his friends, the mother’s influence upon the children was stronger than his; and no wonder, for I think there was no beautiful charm of woman that Mrs. Rossetti lacked. She did not seem at all aware that she was a woman of exceptional gifts, yet her intellectual penetration and the curious exactitude of her knowledge were so remarkable that Gabriel accepted her dicta as oracles not to be challenged. One of her specialities was the pronunciation of English words, in which she was an authority. I cannot resist giving one little instance, as it illustrates a sweet feature of Gabriel’s character. It occurred on a lovely summer’s day in the old Kelmscott manor house in 1873, when Mrs. Rossetti, Christina, and myself were watching Gabriel at work upon ‘Proserpine.’ I had pronounced the word _aspirant_ with the accent upon the middle syllable. “Pardon me, my dear fellow,” said he, without looking from his work, “that word should be pronounced with the accent on the first syllable, as a purist like you ought to know.” On my challenging this, he said, in a tone which was meant to show that he was saying the last word upon the subject, “My mother always says _áspirant_, and she is always right upon matters of pronunciation.” “Then I shall always say _áspirant_,” I replied. And I may add that I now do say _áspirant_, and, right or wrong, intend to say _áspirant_ so long as this breath of mine enables me to say _áspirant_ at all. Afterwards Christina, as we were strolling by the weir, watching Gabriel and George Hake pounding across the meadows at the rate of five miles an hour, said to me, “I think you were right about _aspírant_.” “No,” I said, “it is a dear, old-fashioned way. Your mother says _áspirant_; I now remember that my own mother said _áspirant_. I shall stick to _áspirant_ till the end of the chapter.” And Christina said, “Then so will I.”