"Her character it is difficult to analyse, because, owing to the extreme susceptibility of her imagination, and the unhesitating and rapid manner in which she followed its impulses, her conduct was one perpetual kaleidoscope of changes.... To the poor she was invariably charitable--she was more: in spite of her ordinary thoughtlessness of self, for them she had consideration as well as generosity, and delicacy no less than relief. For her friends she had a ready and active love; for her enemies no hatred: never perhaps was there a human being who had less malevolence; as all her errors hurt only herself, so against herself only were levelled her accusation and reproach." How far Byron was in earnest in this tragicomedy is more difficult to determine. In one letter to her he writes: "I was and am yours, freely and entirely, to obey, to honour, to love, and fly with you, where, when, and how yourself might and may determine." That Byron was piqued when he read the book, his letter to Moore proves: "By the way, I suppose you have seen _Glenarvon_. It seems to me if the authoress had written the truth--the whole truth--the romance would not only have been more romantic, but more entertaining. As for the likeness, the picture can't be good; I did not sit long enough." It was not pleasing to Lord Byron's vanity to appear in her book as the spirit of evil, beside her husband, a high-minded gentleman, ready to sacrifice for his friends everything "but his honour and integrity." Notwithstanding the humorous elements in the connection of Lord Byron and Lady Caroline Lamb, the story is pathetic. His poetic personality attracted her as the light does the poor moth. Disraeli caricatured her in the character of Mrs. Felix Lorraine in _Vivian Grey_, and introduced her into _Venetia_ under the title of Lady Monteagle, where he made much of her love for the poet Cadurcis, otherwise Lord Byron. Lady Caroline Lamb wrote two other novels, but they are of no value. In her third, _Ada Reis_, considered her best, she introduced Bulwer as the good spirit. The little poem written by Lady Caroline Lamb on the day fixed for her departure from Brocket Hall, after it had been decided that she was to live in retirement away from her husband and son, shows tenderness and poetic feeling: They dance--they sing--they bless the day, I weep the while--and well I may: Husband, nor child, to greet me come, Without a friend--without a home: I sit beneath my favourite tree, Sing then, my little birds, to me, In music, love, and liberty. At the time that the British public was smiling graciously, even if a little humorously, upon Lady Caroline Lamb, and was lionising Lord Byron, it spurned from its presence with the greatest disdain Percy and Mary Shelley. Even after the death of Shelley, when Mary returned to London with herself and son to support, it received her as the prodigal daughter for whom the crumbs from the rich man's table must suffice.