The three occasions when I have seen a really tragic expression upon a
face were as follows:—
(1) When Mrs. Inglis in my room at Montreal heard my sausages frying, as
she thought, too furiously in the kitchen, she left me hurriedly with a
glance, and the folds of her dress as she swept out of the room were
Niobean.
(2) Once at dinner I sat opposite a certain lady who had a tureen of
soup before her and also a plate of the same to which she had just helped
herself. There was meat in the soup and I suppose she got a bit she did
not like; instead of leaving it, she swiftly, stealthily, picked it up
from her plate when she thought no one was looking and, with an
expression which Mrs. Siddons might have studied for a performance of
Clytemnestra, popped it back into the tureen.
(3) There was an alarm of fire on an emigrant ship in mid-ocean when I
was going to New Zealand and the women rushed aft with faces as in a
Massacre of the Innocents.