our　bedroom　looking　straight　up　Portland　Place；　our　parlor　having　a
  noble　array　of　great　windows　looking　out　upon　both　streets　（Portland
  Place　and　the　crook　that　joins　it　onto　Regent　Street）。
  Nine　p。m。　　full　twilight；　rich　sunset　tints　lingering　in　the　west。
  I　am　not　going　to　write　anything；　rather　tell　it　when　I　get　back。
  I　love　you　and　Harmony；　and　that　is　all　the　fresh　news　I've　got
  anyway。　　And　I　mean　to　keep　that　fresh　all　the　time。
  Mrs。　Clemens；　in　a　letter　to　her　sister；　declared：　〃It　is　perfectly
  discouraging　to　try　to　write　you。　　There　is　so　much　to　write　about　that
  it　makes　me　feel　as　if　it　was　no　use　to　begin。〃
  It　was　a　period　of　continuous　honor　and　entertainment。　　If　Mark　Twain　had
  been　a　lion　on　his　first　visit；　he　was　little　less　than　royalty　now。　　His
  rooms　at　the　Langham　were　like　a　court。　　Miss　Spaulding　（now　Mrs。　John　B。
  Stanchfield）　remembers　that　Robert　Browning；　Turgenieff；　Sir　John
  Millais；　Lord　Houghton；　and　Sir　Charles　Dilke　（then　at　the　height　of　his
  fame）　were　among　those　that　called　to　pay　their　respects。　　In　a　recent
  letter　she　says：
  I　remember　a　delightful　luncheon　that　Charles　Kingsley　gave　for　Mr。
  Clemens；　also　an　evening　when　Lord　Dunraven　brought　Mr。　Home；　the
  medium；　Lord　Dunraven　telling　many　of　the　remarkable　things　he　had
  seen　Mr。　Home　do。　　I　remember　I　wanted　so　much　to　see　him　float　out
  of　a　seven　or　eight　story　window；　and　enter　another；　which　Lord
  Dunraven　said　he　had　seen　him　do　many　times。　　But　Mr。　Home　had　been
  very　ill；　and　said　his　power　had　left　him。　　My　great　regret　was　that
  we　did　not　see　Carlyle；　who　was　too　sad　and　ill　for　visits。
  Among　others　they　met　Lewis　Carroll；　the　author　of　Alice　in　Wonderland；
  and　found　him　so　shy　that　it　was　almost　impossible　to　get　him　to　say　a
  word　on　any　subject。
  〃The　shyest　full…grown　man；　except　Uncle　Remus；　I　ever　met；〃　Clemens　once
  wrote。　　〃Dr。　MacDonald　and　several　other　lively　talkers　were　present；　and
  the　talk　went　briskly　on　for　a　couple　of　hours；　but　Carroll　sat　still　all
  the　while；　except　now　and　then　when　he　answered　a　question。〃
  At　a　dinner　given　by　George　Smalley　they　met　Herbert　Spencer；　and　at　a
  luncheon…party　at　Lord　Houghton's；　Sir　Arthur　Helps；　then　a　world…wide
  celebrity。
  Lord　Elcho；　a　large；　vigorous　man；　sat　at　some　distance　down　the
  table。　　He　was　talking　earnestly　about　the　town　of　Godalming。　　It
  was　a　deep；　flowing；　and　inarticulate　rumble；　but　I　caught　the
  Godalming　pretty　nearly　every　time　it　broke　free　of　the　rumbling；
  and　as　all　the　strength　was　on　the　first　end　of　the　word；　it
  startled　me　every　time；　because　it　sounded　so　like　swearing。　　In　the
  middle　of　the　luncheon　Lady　Houghton　rose；　remarked　to　the　guests　on
  her　right　and　on　her　left；　in　a　matter…of…fact　way；　〃Excuse　me；　I
  have　an　engagement；〃　and　without　further　ceremony；　she　went　off　to
  meet　it。　　This　would　have　been　doubtful　etiquette　in　America。　　Lord
  Houghton　told　a　number　of　delightful　stories。　　He　told　them　in
  French；　and　I　lost　nothing　of　them　but　the　nubs。
  Little　Susy　and　her　father　thrived　on　London　life；　but　after　a　time　it
  wore　on　Mrs。　Clemens。　　She　delighted　in　the　English　cordiality　and
  culture；　but　the　demands　were　heavy；　the　social　forms　sometimes　trying。
  Life　in　London　was　interesting；　and　in　its　way　charming；　but　she　did　not
  enter　into　it　with　quite　her　husband's　enthusiasm　and　heartiness。　　In　the
  end　they　canceled　all　London　engagements　and　quietly　set　out　for
  Scotland。　　On　the　way　they　rested　a　few　days　in　York；　a　venerable　place
  such　as　Mark　Twain　always　loved　to　describe。　　In　a　letter　to　Mrs。　Langdon
  he　wrote：
  For　the　present　we　shall　remain　in　this　queer　old　walled　town；　with
  its　crooked；　narrow　lanes；　that　tell　us　of　their　old　day　that　knew
  no　wheeled　vehicles；　its　plaster…and…timber　dwellings；　with　upper
  stories　far　overhanging　the　street；；　and　thus　marking　their　date；
  say　three　hundred　years　ago；　the　stately　city　walls；　the　castellated
  gates；　the　ivy…grown；　foliage…sheltered；　most　noble　and　picturesque
  ruin　of　St。　Mary's　Abbey；　suggesting　their　date；　say　five　hundred
  years　ago；　in　the　heart　of　Crusading　times　and　the　glory　of　English
  chivalry　and　romance；　the　vast　Cathedral　of　York；　with　its　worn
  carvings　and　quaintly　pictured　windows；　preaching　of　still　remoter
  days；　the　outlandish　names　of　streets　and　courts　and　byways　that
  stand　as　a　record　and　a　memorial；　all　these　centuries；　of　Danish
  dominion　here　in　still　earlier　times；　the　hint　here　and　there　of
  King　Arthur　and　his　knights　and　their　bloody　fights　with　Saxon
  oppressors　round　about　this　old　city　more　than　thirteen　hundred
  years　gone　by；　and；　last　of　all；　the　melancholy　old　stone　coffins
  and　sculptured　inscriptions；　a　venerable　arch　and　a　hoary　tower　of
  stone　that　still　remain　and　are　kissed　by　the　sun　and　caressed　by
  the　shadows　every　day；　just　as　the　sun　and　the　shadows　have　kissed
  and；　caressed　them　every　lagging　day　since　the　Roman　Emperor's
  soldiers　placed　them　here　in　the　times　when　Jesus　the　Son　of　Mary
  walked　the　streets　of　Nazareth　a　youth；　with　no　more　name　or　fame
  than　the　Yorkshire　boy　who　is　loitering　down　this　street　this
  moment。
  They　reached　Edinburgh　at　the　end　of　July　and　secluded　themselves　in
  Veitch's　family　hotel　in　George　Street；　intending　to　see　no　one。　　But
  this　plan　was　not　a　success；　the　social　stress　of　London　had　been　too
  much　for　Mrs。　Clemens；　and　she　collapsed　immediately　after　their　arrival。
  Clemens　was　unacquainted　in　Edinburgh；　but　remembered　that　Dr。　John
  Brown；　who　had　written　Rab　and　His　Friend；　lived　there。　　He　learned　his
  address；　and　that　he　was　still　a　practising　physician。　　He　walked　around
  to　23　Rutland　Street；　and　made　himself　known。　　Dr。　Brown　came　forthwith；
  and　Mrs。　Clemens　speedily　recovered　under　his　able　and　inspiring
  treatment。
  The　association　did　not　end　there。　　For　nearly　a　month　Dr。　Brown　was
  their　daily　companion；　either　at　the　hotel；　or　in　his　own　home；　or　on
  protracted　drives　when　he　made　his　round　of　visits；　taking　these　new
  friends　along。　　Dr。　John　was　beloved　by　everybody　in　Edinburgh；　everybody
  in　Scotland；　for　that　matter；　and　his　story　of　Rab　had　won　him　a
  following　throughout　Christendom。　　He　was　an　unpretentious　sovereign。
  Clemens　once　wrote　of　him：
  His　was　a　sweet　and　winning　face；　as　beautiful　a　face　as　I　have　ever
  known。　　Reposeful；　gentle；　benignant；　the　face　of　a　saint　at　peace
  with　all　the　world　and　placidly　beaming　upon　it　the　sunshine　of　love
  that　filled　his　heart。
  He　was　the　friend　of　all　dogs；　and　of　all　people。　　It　has　been　told　of
  him　that　once；　when　driving；　he　thrust　his　head　suddenly　out　of　the
  carriage　window；　then　resumed　his　place　with　a　disappointed　look。
  〃Who　was　it？〃　asked　his　companion。　　〃Some　one　you　know？〃
  〃No；〃　he　said。　　〃A　dog　I　don't　know。〃
  He　became　the　boon　companion　and　playmate　of　little　Susy；　then　not　quite
  a　year　and　a　half　old。　　He　called　her　Megalopis；　a　Greek　term；　suggested
  by　her　eyes；　those　deep；　burning　eyes　that　seemed　always　so　full　of
  life's　sadder　philosophies；　and　impending　tragedy。　　In　a　collection　of
  Dr。　Brown's　letters　he　refers　to　this　period。　　In　one　place　he　says：
  Had　the　author　of　The　Innocents　Abroad　not　come　to　Edinburgh　at　that
  time　we　in　all　human　probability　might　never　have　met；　and　what　a
  deprivation　that　would　have　been　to　me　during　the　last　quarter　of　a
  century！
  And　in　another　place：
  I　am　attending　the　wife　of　Mark　Twain。　　His　real　name　is　Clemens。
  She　is　a　quite　lovely　little　woman；　modest　and　clever；　and　she　has　a
  girlie　eighteen　months　old；　her　ludicrous　miniatureand　such　eyes！
  Those　playmates；　the　good　doctor　and　Megalopis；　romped　together　through
  the　hotel　rooms　with　that　complete　abandon　which　few　grown　persons　can
  assume　in　their　play　with　children；　and　not　all　children　can　assume　in
  their　play　with　grown…ups。　　They　played　〃bear；〃　and　the　〃bear〃　（which　was
  a　very　little　one；　so　little　that　when　it　stood　up　behind　the　sofa　you
  could　just　get　a　glimpse　of　yellow　hair）　would　lie　in　wait　for　her
  victim；　and　spring　out　and　surprise　him　and　throw　him　into　frenzies　of
  fear。
  Almost　every　day　they　made　his　professional　rounds　with　him。　　He　always
  carried　a　basket　of　grapes　for　his　patients。　　His　guests　brought　along
  books　to　read　while　they　waited。　　When　he　stopped　for　a　call　he　would
  say：
  〃Entertain　yourselves　while　I　go　in　and　reduce　the　population。〃
  There　was　much　sight…seeing　to　do　in　Edinburgh；　and　they　could　not　quite
  escape　social　affairs。　　There　were　teas　and　luncheons　and　dinners　with
  the　Dunfermlines　and　the　Abercrombies；　and　the　MacDonalds；　and　with
  others　of　those　brave　clans　that　no　longer　slew　one　another　among　the
  grim　northern　crags　and　glens；　but　were　as　sociable　and　entertaining
  lords　and　ladies　as　ever　the　southland　could　produce。　　They　were　very
  gentle　folk　indeed；　and　Mrs。　Clemens；　in　future　years；　found　her　heart
  going　back　oftener　to　Edinburgh　than　to　any　other　hav