Although deeply
religious, her religion had no gloom about it, for her
inextinguishable love of a joke, and irrepressible sense of fun,
remained with her to the end of her life, and kept her young in
spite of her ninety-three years. From the commencement of her
married life, my mother had been in the habit of "visiting" in the
village twice a week, and in every cottage she was welcomed as a
friend, for in addition to her gift of sympathy, she had a memory
almost as tenacious as my father's, and remembered the names of
every one of the cottagers' children, knew where they were
employed, and whom they had married. With the help of her maid, my
mother used to compound a cordial, bottles of which she
distributed amongst the cottagers, a cordial which gained an
immense local reputation. The ingredients of this panacea were one
part of strong iron-water to five parts of old whisky, to which
sal-volatile, red lavender, cardamoms, ginger, and other warming
drugs were added. "Her Grace's bottle," as it was invariably
termed, achieved astonishing popularity, and the most marvellous
cures were ascribed to it.
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