"Lastly there was George Octavious, "Uncle George" – the smallest – most conventional of the brothers – very religious, usually dressed in black (he liked black gloves) shocked by Edward (Ned) and still more by William (Bill) [his two older brothers]. He too went to India and was a lawyer there and returned home with wife and family. I am afraid we used to laugh at him rather – his contacts with father were often so amusing e.g. Sunday afternoons at home. Uncle George, "Ned, I had an accident this morning." Father, "Well what was it?" George lugubriously, "I fell down the steps outside after church this morning." Father, "Drunk dear boy?" Uncle George, "but me Holy Living – Holy Dying" he reveled in contemplating death. He was very superstitious. When U. Bill died he was cremated (I took the service, being a young curate then) the ashes were entrusted to U.G. and me to take to Halstead and deposit in the family vault. This meant our staying a night in lodgings in Halstead. After depositing the Ashes, we returned to our lodgings and being a quiet summer evening I suggested a walk. So we proceeded down the valley wearing our top hats and frock coats. It was getting dark as we returned and suddenly U.G. began to trot homewards and I asked why the hurry? He seized my arm and pointed to a copse of trees on the hillside above us and said, "A woman was murdered there when I was a boy" and insisted on trotting ‘til we were well past the spot.

Father’s outlook on life was always a trial to the melancholy George. And indeed he had reason to be surprised at "Ned" for my father had led a very adventurous life, full of incident and excitement... "