The two houses, Nos. 10 and 11, in the eastern corner on the south side are the two oldest that look on to the square. They were reserved for the maids of honour when the Court was at Kensington, and the wainscoted rooms and little powdering closets speak volumes as to their bygone days; these two were originally one house, as the exterior shows. Next door is the women's department of King's College. J. R. Green, the historian, lived at No. 14 until his death, and in No. 18 John S. Mill was living in 1839. Three Bishops at least are known to have been domiciled in the square: Bishop Mawson of Ely, who died here in 1770; Bishop Herring of Bangor, a very notable prelate, who was afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury; and in the south-western corner Bishop Hough of Oxford, Lichfield, and Worcester had a fine old house until 1732. The Convent of the Assumption now covers the same ground in Nos. 20 to 24. The original object of the convent was prayer for the conversion of England to the Roman Catholic faith, but the sisters now devote themselves to the work of teaching; they have a pleasant garden, more than an acre in extent, stretching out at the back of the house. In the chapel there is a fresco painting by Westlake. No. 26 is the Kensington Foundation Grammar School. Talleyrand lived in Nos. 36 and 37, formerly one house. He succeeded Bishop Herring in the occupancy, after a lapse of fifty years, and the man who had abandoned the vocation of the Church to follow diplomacy was thus sheltered by the same roof that had sheltered a Churchman by vocation, if ever there were one. Many foreign ambassadors patronized the square at various times. The Duchess of Mazarin, already mentioned in the volume on Chelsea, was here in 1692, and six years later moved to her Chelsea home, where she died; but her day was over many years before she came here. Joseph Addison lodged in the square for a time, four or five years before his marriage with the Countess of Warwick. At No. 41 Sir Edward Burne-Jones lived for three years, subsequently removing to West Kensington, but the association which has most glorified the square is its proximity to Young Street, so long the home of Thackeray. He came to No. 16, then 13, in 1846, aged only thirty-five, but with the romance of his life behind him. A tablet marks the window in which he used to work. Six years previously his wife, whom he had tenderly loved, had developed melancholia, and, soon becoming a confirmed invalid, had had to be placed permanently under medical care. Their married life had been very short, only four or five years, but Thackeray had three little daughters to remind him of it. He had passed through many vicissitudes, from the comparatively opulent days of youth and the University to the time when he had lost all his patrimony and been forced to support himself precariously by pen and pencil. Yearly he had become better known, and by the time he came to Young Street he was sufficiently removed from