'Put my
watch under my pillow,' he looked up cheerily to those at his bedside;
'and thank you for taking care of it while I have been ill. It's the
watch the Queen gave me, and I like to have it near.' But that illness
sapped and mined him, even while he proposed, 'Oh, yes, we'll go down to
Chelsea and inspect Carlyle's old house. I'll try and fill it again with
him, in particular the room at the top which he built to be noise-proof,
and which wasn't.' The visit was never paid, but the celebration of the
Queen's reign of sixty years still found Sir George able to be about.
That was right well, for how many had made such a contribution to the
history and dominion of the reign? Truly, dreams had come about, since he
listened to the bells of Plymouth, when taking passage by the "Beagle."
Here was goodly proof of things achieved for the happiness of men, such
as even he had scarce dared to imagine. The fairies had been working.
Sir George followed, in imagination, the nations of the realm as they
walked through London, its capital, while all the world .wondered. He
attended, in heart, the simple service at St. Paul's Cathedral, where he
himself was to find a last resting-place, sleeping with the worthies. He
could picture the great fleet, seal of the sea-power which made all
possible, spread itself athwart the Solent.
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