I shall never forget one concert that was given at Epsom, near Kennerley-Rumford’s home. I had been miserably unwell for a very long time. My friends were always urging me to take a rest, or go abroad, but a composer is, in most cases, anything but a millionaire, and my one answer was, “I simply can’t afford it.” When I received a letter from Bertie Rumford, asking me if I would accompany Harry Greene and himself in a number of my songs at Epsom, I was feeling really ill, but I was so fond of them both that I felt I simply couldn’t refuse. And I went from Broadway to Epsom and played a solo and helped with the accompaniments. I was putting on my cloak in the artists’ room at the end of the concert when Harry came up to me. He said excitedly -

“Just you go and give Bertie Rumford the biggest hug you ever gave any one in all your life !”

I said, “Good gracious ! Why ?”

“Why ?” he cried; “because it’s been your concert, because you’ve been ill, and because he wants this very minute to hand you over the whole of the proceeds.”

I could have cried my eyes out when he told me this; it was so absolutely and utterly unexpected, and the kindness and delicacy with which the whole thing had been arranged bowled me completely over.