Mr.
Murray, anxious to remove the awkwardness of a first introduction, wished to say something which would engage a conversation between ourselves and Sir Walter Scott, and asked Charles if he happened to have about him his drawing of the Bayeux tapestry to show to Sir Walter.
Charles smiled and said 'No'; but the saying answered the desired end; something had been said that led to conversation, and Sir Walter, Gifford, Mr.Murray, and Charles chatted on, and I listened.
"Gifford looked very aged, his face much wrinkled, and he seemed to be in declining health; his dress was careless, and his cravat and waistcoat covered with snuff.

There was an antique, philosophic cast about his head and countenance, better adapted to exact a feeling of curiosity in a stranger than the head of Sir Walter Scott; the latter seemed more a man of this world's mould.

Such, too, was his character; for, with all his fine genius, Sir Walter would never have been so successful an author, had he not possessed so large a share of common sense, united to a business-like method of conducting his affairs, even those which perhaps I might venture to call the affairs of imagination.
We took our leave; and before we got further than the first landing, we met Mr.Murray conducting Sir Walter downstairs; they were going to have a private chat before the departure of the latter." [Footnote: "Mrs.
Bray's Autobiography," pp.

145-7.].