Lord William never lost his sparkle or his pluck and he never sported a corporation, but the unceasing energy of his life was telling on him. It was quite useless begging him to take things more easily for it was not possible to him. How he did enjoy a joke! I think it was in 1885 when he was home on this leave that he went with me to Rose’s toyshop in Sloane Street to find some toy to amuse a small boy of mine that was delicate. While we were wandering round the shop a friend came and spoke to me, so Lord William continued his prowl, looking for likely things. When at liberty once more I found him with a neat parcel in one hand, and he exclaimed, “I have the very thing.” “What?” I asked. “Oh, come along, and I will explain it to you,” so we marched out. I was then told the parcel contained “Parlour Fireworks.” I suggested they were rather dangerous things, but the idea was pooh-poohed. They were only pretty coloured lights that threw up harmless sprays of blue, green and red powdery flame. One of them he lit in the drawing-room fender to show me how harmless they were. It seemed all right, so as soon as he had gone and it was growing dark the small boy, myself and nurses proceeded on to the flat roof of the house we were then renting in Park Lane, in the narrow end near Gloucester House, where we felt well protected by the Duke of Cambridge’s policeman always stationed at his door. The first few Roman candles we lit were a success and caused great delight, then I found a queer little box with rules where to light it. I faithfully followed all the instructions. At first nothing happened, then suddenly the air was alive with rifle-like reports in rapid succession, while live squibs, things I believe called crackers, were flying about cracking in every direction all over the tops of the houses. What a commotion there was! The policeman ran in every direction at once and blew his whistle, the jaded sleeping horse in the laundry van at our area railings suddenly awoke, curled its tail over its back pug-dog fashion, and set off for all it was worth, leaving the man in charge, still in the kitchen, probably enjoying good things. Everybody in the neighbourhood shouted, while we all scrambled helter-skelter down the narrow staircase leading from the roof, and on which housemaids had left various pails to dry and air. These in our haste to descend and hide our heads, we charged, hurtling them down the stairs in front of us, making a horrible clatter.