THE CHANCE ENCOUNTER 169 
a devoted gardener tends his plants—he had made 
them part of himself. Each time I went to that 
delightful town I visited his spotless little inn to 
enjoy the atmosphere of the past which the 
landlord’s talk as much as his collection recon- 
structed so vividly. One day while we were 
chatting he suddenly noticed a figure in another 
room, ‘Ah, gentlemen, come along into this 
room,” said he, “here is a living piece worth all 
these relics put together !’’ We went into the 
other room, and the landlord said : “‘ Now look at 
this dear old lady!” Truth to tell she was a 
goodly sight. Her age was great, her face 
“wrinkled, but still rosy.’ The landlord con- 
tinued : “She is actually ninety-three years old. 
She lives by herself, walks into Ludlow by her- 
self, does her own needlework, her own reading 
and writing, all without glasses, and she has a 
cottage as clean as any palace ; and now, granny,” 
he said, turning to her, but evidently forgetting 
her deafness, “ will you kindly tell these gentle- 
men how as a _ girl you remember seeing 
Queen Victoria when she came to Ludlow!” 
Granny looked up at him, and replied, very 
sweetly : “I'll have a glass of port wine, if you 
please.” 
Sometimes at an hotel, when you are just 
doing up your tackle, ready for a long day, a 
stranger who is preparing to go out and do the 
day’s work for which he has specially come into 
the district, looks longingly at the rod and basket, 
and is evidently with you in spirit, I always 
