Of the many telling experiences of the last few momentous years, the one that will be retained longest in our memory will most assuredly be the touching sight of the war-stained and weary men who, during the earlier days of the war, literally stumbled through our turnstiles into the building. Dazed for want of sleep, begrimed and besmeared with the very mud of the trenches, they flung themselves upon the nearest ottoman or couch, or in some out-of-the-way place upon the floor, to snatch a few hours’ sleep in comparative comfort. One evening, when strolling round the rooms some time after the place had been closed, I found myself looking at the watchmen, who were busily engaged sweeping the floors. The chief among them, an old and valued servant, possessing a disposition that generally enabled him to look upon the bright side of things--although he was so often constrained to view them only during the sombre hours of the night--caught me gazing at him. With a face I thought unusually grave he bade me “Good-evening,” and ruefully remarked, “It seems to me, sir, some of this dirt has come a long way.” Then, pondering for a while, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, he resumed, “Yes, sir, some of it from the very trenches.” And I somehow believed the old fellow was right. CHAPTER XLVII Three heroes of the war: Nurse Cavell, Jack Cornwell, V.C., and Captain Fryatt--Lords Roberts and Kitchener--Queen Alexandra’s stick and violets--The Duke of Norfolk’s tip. There are three figures, added during the past few momentous years, which possess the rare distinction of being models of abiding interest. Out of the many portraits placed in the Exhibition, there are few that stay there very long. [Illustration: EDITH CAVELL, THE MARTYR NURSE A Portrait Study by John T. Tussaud.] Nurse Cavell, Jack Cornwell, and Captain Fryatt will always be remembered with esteem by the present generation, and the great story of their heroic deeds ensures for them a permanent home at Baker Street, where they will be viewed with patriotic pride by posterity. The portrait of Edith Cavell, the martyr-nurse, was modelled immediately after that heroic woman was brutally shot by the Germans at Brussels at two o’clock in the morning of Tuesday, the 12th of October, 1915. I communicated with the London Hospital, Whitechapel, where Nurse Cavell had served before she went to Belgium, and the nurses there readily afforded me all the information they had to impart. Several of them visited my studio and gave me valuable hints as to the posing of the figure and the general demeanour of Miss Cavell when at the hospital. They particularly described the way in which she used to walk through the wards with a book under her arm and her head inclined slightly to one side. When the model was finished they were good enough to say that it enabled them to visualise Miss Cavell as they knew her, and that it was a pleasing portrait.