MISS OCTAVIA HILL. rTo THE EDITOR OF THE "SFECTATOR."] SIR,—In
your interesting review of the " Life of Octavia Hill" (Spectator, June 7th), certain dates and names men- tioned called up in my mind certain memories associated with one day in the summer of 1868. The scene was a riverside garden at the back of an old house, then tenanted by George Macdonald; the people in that garden were of all sorts and conditions, for Miss Octavio. Hill and the Rev. Edmund Maurice had brought some of their poorest London tenants and parishioners to be entertained at a " garden party," as only such a host and his family knew how. The play of " Beauty and the Beast " was acted on the lawn by George Macdonald and his children, and surely never was "Beast" imbued with more pathos and humour than was that " Beast," as played by our host himself ! His audience was spellbound. And when the play was over, those who were able stood up for a country dance on the lawn—led off by John Ruskin and Octavia Hill. I can see that little figure in her close black bonnet, dancing down to meet her elderly and somewhat stiff partner, even now. To some of the onlookers that day in June was marked by a white stone in their calendar. There was not one soul in all that crowd of guests, rich and poor, feeble and well-to-do, unknown and well-known, for whom George Macdonald had not some loving thought and consideration. Many of those assembled then in that sunny old-world garden have " gone over " to the majority, but surely the fragrant memory left by such a day will abide for ever.—I am, Sir, &c.,
ALICE WEBER.
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