Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 3).djvu/7

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6
The Strand Magazine.

reads, "Ank Bes, Bes Ank" ("the living Bes, Bes the living"). It has been mended. Mr. Haggard wore it for a year, but unfortunately he broke it whilst getting out of a cab. Queen Taia must have worn it all her life, for it shows signs of constant use. Then Mr. Haggard takes from his finger a signet ring he always wears. It was found at Deir-el-Bahari. Its red stone is believed to chronicle the portrait of Rameses the Great, the Pharaoh of the Oppression, with whose coffin it was discovered.


Charles Dickens's desk.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.

Here is a Gnostic ring in medieval lead setting, and yet another—a golden circlet—which will always be associated with his career. It is the scarab that figures in "She." It is a heavy ring, and bears the words, "Suten se Ra" ("Royal Son of the Sun").

A grand piece of oak carving, dated 1664, surrounds the fireplace in the dining room. Here is an admirable portrait of the novelist by John Pettie, R.A. On either side of the window are paintings of two of the Hamiltons—ancestors of Mrs. Haggard—who were loyal to their King, Charles II. A story is told of the faithful Cavalier who hangs in the dining-room. No stauncher Royalist breathed, and he rode from London to Norwich in great glee with the news of the Restoration. Unfortunately, he got into a meeting of Roundheads, but so full of joy was he that he shouted the news to them as loudly as he could. They nearly killed him for his kindness. A Sir Joshua Reynolds hangs here—the portrait of a lady and her child. She was the wife of an officer who was called away to the French wars. During his absence a little one was born, and the doting mother and loving wife, expecting him to return soon, had this picture painted for him. But he never came back again. The lady could not afford to pay for it, and the canvas remained in Sir Joshua's studio for some time, until finally bought at his auction by Dr. Hamilton, of Lynn.


Impressions of rings in sealing-wax.

The drawing-room is a delightfully cosy apartment, with its white enamelled chimney-piece and its inviting cushioned corners. Knick-knacks in china fill the recesses; more curios from distant climes, amongst which is a little glass photo of a small child in a plaid frock—an early portrait of Rider Haggard. Mexican combs, exquisite embroidery and fans, are picturesquely scattered about, and freshly plucked flowers