H。 R。 H。 undertook a report for Salvation Army — Regeneration — General William Booth — His death — H。 R。 H。 wrote pamphlet for Archbishop Benson — “Rural Denmark” — The Development Board — Notes of interview with Lloyd George — Knighthood conferred — Offered seat on Dominions Royal mission — Egypt Again — “Marie” — Dedicated to Sir Henry Bulwer — End of Chronicle of H。 R。 H。
In the intervals of all this mission business I retired for a month or five weeks into a nursing home to undergo an operation which the effects of my long journey made necessary。
Never shall I forget that place！ — the lodging…house…like little drawing…room where patients were received； and where I had to wait in my dressing…gown while my room was made ready for the operation； the dreadful noise caused by the carriages of theatre…goers returning home at night or by the rattle of the mail…carts over the stone…paved road； the continual operations； the occasional rush of the nurses when it was announced that a patient was passing away； and so forth。
I had never taken a major anaesthetic before； and I must say I did not find the process pleasant。 I can still see the face of my friend Dr。 Lyne Stivens； and the jovial； rubicund countenance of the late Professor Rose； bending over me as through a mist； both grown so strangely solemn； and feel the grip of my hand tightening upon that of the nurse which afterwards it proved almost impossible to free。
Then came the whirling pit and the blackness。 I suppose that it was like death； only I hope that death is not quite so dark！
From this blackness I awoke in a state of utter intoxication to find the nurses of the establishment gathered round me with sheets of paper and the familiar； hateful autograph books in which； even in that place and hour； they insisted I should write。 Heaven knows what I set down therein： I imagine they must have been foolish words； which mayhap one day will be brought up against me。
Another question： Why cannot the public authorities establish really suitable nursing homes for paying patients？ This would be a great boon to thousands； and； I should imagine； self…supporting。
However； of one of these nurses at any rate； a widow； I have grateful recollections。 I amused myself； and； I trust； her； by reading “Ayesha” aloud to her during my long wakeful hours — for she was a night nurse。
This book “Ayesha；” which was published while I was in the nursing home； is a sequel to “She；” which； in obedience to my original plan； I had deliberately waited for twenty years to write。 As is almost always the case； it suffered somewhat from this fact； at any rate at the hands of those critics with whom it is an article of faith to declare that no sequel can be good。 Still； I have met and heard from many people who like “Ayesha” better than they do “She。”
Lang was very doubtful about this book。 He wrote：
You may think me a hound； but I only found out as I went to bed last night that “Ayesha” was in the drawing…room。 Awfully good of you to make me such a nice dedication； grammar right too； which I name because in a very jolly book egalement dedie to me the grammar is wrong； but I could not point that out to the author。
I am almost afraid to read “She；” as at 61；00000 one has no longer the joyous credulity of forty； and even your imagination is out of the fifth form。 However； plenty of boys are about； and I hope they will be victims of the enchantress。 。 。 。
I was therefore correspondingly relieved； believing as I do that Lang’s judgment on imaginative fiction was the soundest of any man of his time； and knowing his habit of declaring the faith that was in him without fear； favour； or prejudice； when on the following day I received another note in which he said：
It is all right： I am Thrilled： so much obliged。 I thought I was too Old； but the Eternal Boy is still on the job。 Unluckily I think the dam reviewers never were boys — most of them the Editor’s nieces。 May it be done into Thibetan。 Dolmen business in Chapter I all right！
I have often been asked； and have been careful never to answer the question； as to what I considered the best passages in my own humble writings。 It is a very favourite query of the casual correspondent； from whom I receive； on an average； a letter a day； and sometimes many； many more。 Now in acknowledgment of them all I reply — Ignosi’s chant in “King Solomon’s Mines；” as it appears in the later editions of that book （the same that Stevenson called “a very noble imitation”）； the somewhat similar chant to the Sun in “Allan Quatermain”； the scene where Eric Brighteyes finds his mother dead — which Lang declared was “as good as Homer” — and the subsequent fight in the hall at Middlehof； the description of the wolves springing up at the dead body in the cave in “Nada the Lily”； the transformation in the chapter called “The Change” and “The Loosing of the Powers” in “Ayesha”； a speech made by the heroine Mameena as she dies； in an unpublished work called “Child of Storm；” with the rest of her death scene； the account of the passion of John and Jess as they swung together wrapt in each other’s arms in the sinking waggon on the waters of the flooded Vaal； and； oh！ I know not what besides。 When one has written some fifty books the memory is scarce equal to the task of searching for plums amidst the dough。 Also； when one has found them； they seem on consideration to be but poor plums at best。 Also one thinks differently of their relative merits or demerits at different times。 For instance； how about “She’s” speech before she enters the fire？ and the holding of the stair by old Umslopogaas？ and the escape of the ship in “Fair Margaret”？ or the battle of Crecy in “Red Eve”？ If I am asked what book of mine I think the best as a whole； I answer that one； yet unpublished； to my mind is the most artistic。 At any rate； to some extent； it satisfies my literary conscience。 It is the book named “Child of Storm；” to which I have alluded above； and is a chapter in the history of “Allan Quatermain。” Of Allan； for obvious reasons； I can always write； and of Zulus； whose true inwardness I understand by the light of Nature； I can always write； and — well； the result pleases at least one reader — myself。 Whether it will please others is a different matter。
So； at last I have tried to answer the inquiries of the all…pervading casual correspondent in a somewhat superficial fashion。 To do so thoroughly would involve weeks of reading of much that I now forget。
When I escaped from that nursing home； very feeble and with much…shattered nerves； I went to stay with my friend Lyne Stivens to recuperate； and then for a day or two to Kipling’s。 Here I remember we pounded the plot of “The Ghost Kings” together； writing down our ideas in alternate sentences upon the same sheet of foolscap。
Among my pleasantest recollections during the last few years are those of my visits to the Kiplings； and one that they paid me here； during which we discussed everything in heaven above and earth beneath。 It is； I think； good for a man of rather solitary habits now and again to have the opportunity of familiar converse with a brilliant and creative mind。 Als