Unlike commercial dinners, “shop” was not taboo round this hospitable mahogany, but formed the staple of the conversation. Indeed, these worthies could talk little else, and with the exception of sometimes shrewd and humorous sidelights on the towns and villages they passed on their daily drives, and criticisms of the local magnates whose parks and mansions they pointed out to the passengers on the way, were silent on all subjects save wheels, horses, and harness. The etiquette of this room was strict. The oldest coachman presided--never a guard, for they always ranked as juniors--and at the proper moment gave the loyal toast of the King or Queen. An exception to this rule of seniority was when Mrs. Nelson’s second son, Robert, who drove her Exeter “Defiance,” was present, as occasionally he was. Following the practice of the House of Commons, whose members are never, within the House, referred to by their own names, but always as the representatives of their several constituencies, Mrs. Nelson’s coachmen and guards here assembled were addressed as “Manchester,” “Oxford,” “Ipswich,” “Devonport,” and so forth. When Mrs. Nelson retired from the active management of the business, her eldest son, John, became the moving spirit. It was in his time that railways came in and coaching went out, but he was equal to the occasion, and started a very successful line of omnibuses, the “Wellington,” plying between Stratford, Whitechapel, the Bank, Oxford Street, Royal Oak, and Westbourne Grove. He died, a very wealthy man, in June, 1868, aged seventy-four.