But carrying around such an archaic title can have its downsides.
When, during a debate about food waste several years ago, she quoted Oscar Wilde’s remark about “people knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing”, the backlash was unrelenting.
“They said I’d got no idea about shopping or cooking or anything like that, but of course I do all my own shopping and cooking,” she exclaims.
“The abuse that I got from that online and in the post, you know plain brown envelopes with disgusting pictures in them and things. It wasn’t nice, but you get over it.”
Insisting she has never used her title “to get a good table in a restaurant or make a fuss about anything,” she adds: “The other privilege is that you can help people when Mr Smith might not be able to.”
Six weeks into the
coronavirus lockdown and the Countess is worried about the long term effects of Covid-19 on sufferers like the Prime Minister. “There is such a thing as post viral fatigue syndrome,” she insists. “A lot of people have been pushed back to work too early, for example the medical staff. They will have a collapse eventually. The ME groups are keeping an eye open for that.”
Not being in the House has been “less of a wrench” than she expected, admits the Countess, whose underlying health problems mean she is one of the 1.5 million forced into self-isolation for the foreseeable future. She has taken up watercolours, started growing her own vegetables, and knitted countless jumpers.
“My husband plays the piano so I have lovely music to listen to,” she adds, along with tuning into Radio 4. The couple also regularly FaceTime her granddaughters Izzie, 28, and Frannie, 26.
Yet her life, it seems, is as dispensable as her seat in the Lords. “I’ve already signed a piece of paper saying I don’t want to be resuscitated,” she reveals. “John and I have both decided if we get it, we don’t want to see the doctor. If we get over it, we will, and if we don’t, we don’t. They don’t want us clogging up the hospitals.”
And with that, she bids me farewell to tend to the seeds in her polytunnel - the next chapter in the extraordinary life of Parliament’s last Countess.