“June 8.—Luncheon with the Prince. We drove afterwards to see Lady Russell. Pembroke Lodge looked enchanting with its bright green of old oaks and its carpet of bluebells—a most perfect refuge for the latter years of an aged statesman. Lady Russell was waiting for us at the entrance, with Lady Agatha and Rollo. On the lawn we found many other members of the family, with Mr. Bouverie and Mr. Froude the historian. I presented them all, and we walked in the grounds. At tea Lord Bute came in from a neighbouring villa—always most pleasant and cordial to me.”
“June 11.—Dined with old Lady Harrington, and left as early as I could to go to Mrs. Schuster’s, where Sarah Bernhardt was to act. She appeared first in the great scene of the ‘Phédre’—her face bloodless, her arms rigid, her voice monotonous and broken. Gradually, under the influence of her love, she became animated, but the animation began at the tips of her fingers, till it burst all over her in a flood of irrepressible passion.
“She did not seem to see her audience or to think of them. For the time being she was only her part, and, when it was over, she sank down utterly exhausted, almost unconscious.
“She appeared again in a small part, in which she was a great lady turned sculptress. The part was nothing; she had little more to say than ‘Let me see more of your profile; turn a little more the other way;’ yet the great simplicity of her perfect acting made it deeply interesting, and, in the quarter of an hour in which the scene lasted, she had done in the clay a real medallion which was a striking likeness.”[306]
“June 12.—Dined with Madame du Quaire—her table like a glorious Van Huysum picture from the fruit and flower piece in the centre. The hostess is famous for the warmth and steadfastness of her friendships. Mrs. Stewart says—‘Fanny du Quaire is the only person I know who would do anything for her friends. If it were necessary for my peace that I should have poison, I should send for Fanny du Quaire, and she would give it me without flinching.’”
“June 13.—Dined at Sir Charles Trevelyan’s. I took down a lady whose name seemed to be ‘Mrs. Beckett.’ I did not interest her, and she talked exclusively to Lord O’Hagan, who was on the other side of her. Towards the close of dinner she said to me, ‘We have been a very long time at dinner.’—‘To me it has seemed quite endless,’ I said.—‘Well,’ she exclaimed, ‘I do not wonder that you were chosen to speak truth to Princes.’
“I asked her how she knew anything about that, and she said, ‘I have lived a long time in a court atmosphere myself. I was for twelve years with the late Queen of Holland.’—‘Oh,’ I said, ‘now I know who you are; you are Mrs. Lecky!’ and it was the well-known author’s wife.”[307]
“June 14.—Luncheon with Lady Darnley, and a long quiet talk with her afterwards, then a visit to young Lord Lansdowne in his cool, pleasant rooms looking upon the garden.
“Dined with Count Piper, the Swedish Minister,[308] to meet the Prince Royal. I sat by Madame de Bülow, who is always pleasant. The only other lady unconnected with the Embassy was Mademoiselle Christine Nilsson, who sang most beautifully afterwards till Jenny Lind arrived. Then the rivalry of the two queens of song became most curious, Nilsson planting herself at the end of the pianoforte with her arms akimbo, and crying satirical bravas during Jenny’s songs, and Jenny avenging herself by never allowing Nilsson to return to the pianoforte at all. The party was a very late one, and supper was served, when the Prince offered Jenny his arm to take her down. She accepted it, though with great diffidence; which so exasperated Nilsson, that with ‘Je m’en vais donc,’ utterly refusing to be pacified, she swept out of the room and out of the house, though how she got away I do not know.”