Read it through once

It was not long, however, before Mr. Kingsley called at the cottage and commenced a friendship which lasted until Miss Mitford’s death. She found him “charming—that beau-ideal of a young poet, whom I never thought to see—frank, ardent, spirited, soft, gentle, high-bred above all.” It was a friendship which ripened rapidly, for Kingsley loved to discuss deep social questions with this learned little woman who, although at first she did not like his opinions, came to see that he was not far wrong and indeed developed into one of his most ardent supporters. In the October of 1852, the first year of their friendship, Kingsley wrote a sonnet which he dedicated