The Romance of a Pro-Consul | Page 5

the din of hammering up hearths for the
Anglo- Saxon. Perhaps it was that he had talked so long to the hills of
Oceana, catching their simplicity and music. You were reminded of the
measured English of an old and lovable book, just as you grew used to
read in his face what he was to say, before the words had begun to flow.
Never was there a face more quick to reflect the mind, more pliable to
humour, more luminous at some stirring idea or deed, more indignant
at the bare notion of a wrong inflicted, softer at the call of sympathy.
Sir George had travelled to Windsor with the Earl of Rosebery, then
Prime Minister, and that was an agreeable memory. Being asked what
characteristics he noted as most prominent in the Premier, he replied:
'Oh, his extraordinary readiness at seeing the humorous side of
anything, his almost boyish love of fun. He seems to have a power of
dismissing the weight of public affairs, of diverting himself with the
playfulness of youth.' Sir George was living in Park Place, St. James's,
and on returning from Windsor the Premier drove him there. His rooms
were at Number 7, and here the street ended in a sharp incline, with
somebody's yard beyond.
Sir George suggested that the coachman should stop, and let him down
at a point where the horses could readily turn. 'Not at all,' Lord
Rosebery insisted, 'I'll drive you to the door and we'll manage to turn
somehow.' A trifle anxious, Sir George waited on his door-step to see
how this was to be done.
'Quick of eye,' he related, 'the coachman discerned the possibilities of
the yard at the top of the incline. Accordingly, he whipped into it,
wheeled round, and trotted gently away past me. There sat the Premier
in the carriage, waving his hat in a triumph, the fun of which quite
infected me.'

Sir George appreciated kindly attentions the more, in that he was
himself a king in courtesy, with his heart ever on the latch. He
estimated the side of Lord Rosebery's character, thus manifested, to be
among the best ornaments he could have. 'It seems clear to me,' were
his words, 'that he is a man of sincerity and simple nobility, one who
wishes with all his heart to do what he can for his fellow men.' That
was Sir George's test of all public effort, as it had been what he applied
to himself. There could be none higher.
Mere weight of years could not quench the ardour and hope which had
always burned so brightly in Sir George Grey. As well expect him to
forget that chivalrous manner of his, bewitcher of the veriest stranger.
He would, find his tall hat, search out his staunch umbrella, and convoy
the visitor forth, when the hour of parting had arrived. Nothing less
would suffice him, and as to his company, it was a delight for ever.
Another veteran might have been lonely with a younger generation
knocking at the door, indeed in full possession. He was not; he strode
in the van with the youngest.
Yet he felt, perhaps, the void time had wrought in the circle of his
friends. He held the fort silently, while the long scythe cut another
swathe very near him. He heard that his friend, James Anthony Froude,
who had been lying ill in Devonshire, was steadily losing strength.
'I have made inquiries about him, poor fellow,' he murmured, 'but now I
must telegraph for the latest particulars. He and I are old companions,
and I have liking and admiration for him. When he visited me at my
island of Kawau, off the New Zealand coast, we had a capital while
together. He wanted to ask me, if I approved the manner in which he
had written Carlyle's life, a subject that brought him a good deal of
criticism. My reply was that I believed Carlyle would have wished to
be presented just as he was; not a half picture, but complete, for that
would ultimately make him appear all the greater.'
Somewhat before his illness, Froude published a book, and the London
daily paper which Sir George Grey took in, had a handsome review of
it. 'I'll send the cutting to Froude,' he declared; 'it will do him good to
know that his latest writings are thoroughly appreciated.' Within a few

days, he had news from Devonshire that Froude had been able to have
part of the article read to him, and that he was gratified by it. Sir
George was happy at his little service having carried so well, and
mentioned a larger one which Froude had wished to render him.
'Hardly was I in England this time,' the history of it ran, 'than I