"So my poor Mother had to leave her two babies in charge of a Nurse, and one of the Curates, who came to live in the Vicarage, and began her travels with her husband. They went to the South of France; and at Nice in 1835 or 36 my baby brother 'Harry Verney' was born. When he was 8 months old, my father wished to be off on his travels again; and as the poor little babe would have been an 'encumbrance', he had to be left behind, with the Doctor and his wife. The last my poor Mother saw of him was, as the French nurse lifted him up to the windows of their travelling carriage, covered with violets, for a last kiss. She never saw him again - he died 2 months later of convulsions, and is buried at Nice." *Memoirs of Emily Elliott pp9-10.