8 September 1884 – 14 September 1884

H. and I to Aid worth. In the draw- ing-room we find Lady Tennyson — then T. comes in. His two little grandsons run in. Tennyson went to his bedroom and returned with a soap-dish and piece of soap, which he rubbed into a lather, and proceeded to blow bubbles, himself much delighted with the little crystal worlds and their prismatic tints — ' Never was anything seen so beautiful ! You artists (to H.) can't get such colours as these.' The children jumped and laughed, and we fanned the bubbles to the ceiling and watched them burst in various parts of the room. Then T., inverting his pipe, blew up a magic cluster of diamond domes on the saucer, which rolled over and wetted his knees, till we put a newspaper to save him. Next he took his trusty tobacco pipe, lighted it and blew opaque bubbles which burst with a tiny puff of smoke, like shells over a besieged fortress. I said, ' Do you remember Vivier, the French horn- player, doing that in Tom Taylor's garden ? ' T. — ' I was just thinking of that.' We were asked more than once to stay, but hurried off to the train.