“June 1.—I dined with the Boynes, and went afterwards to Lady Sudeley and Mrs. Cavendish Bentinck. At these great parties I find my difficulty in recognising people an immense disadvantage. Then, with those who do not care for contemporary history or art, there are so few topics of conversation, for almost every one in London is occupied ‘de rien faire, ou de faire des riens.’”[345]
“June 4.—A party, where I heard Mrs. Caulfield sing and Genevieve Ward recite—first only some fables of La Fontaine, to which she gave a marvellous infinity of expression, and then a ballad. She is a simple and very striking-looking woman.”
“June 9.—Dined with the Haygarths. Mr. Bouverie was there, and very entertaining with stories of the old Duke of Wellington, of whom he justly said that his character had greatly risen through the publication of his letters, while other characters had been lowered. ‘They will knock down a great many statues,’ the Duke had said in speaking of them to Mr. Bouverie in his lifetime.
“Apropos of the Duke’s love of military discipline, Mr. Bouverie mentioned how, when he was at Walmer, all the officers of the neighbouring garrison called except Lord Douro, who thought it would be absurd, as he was seeing his father every day. Consequently, the Duke asked all the officers to dinner except his own son, and at dinner said to the Colonel, ‘By-the-bye, who is your Major? for he has not called on me.’
“Another example of the Duke’s character as a martinet was that Lord Douro once met him in plain clothes. The Duke took no notice of him whatever. Lord Douro, knowing how angry his father must be, rushed in, changed his clothes for uniform, and met his father again. ‘Hallo, Douro! how are you? it is a long time since I have seen you,’ said the Duke; but he had seen him quite well a quarter of an hour before.”
“June 10.—Dined with the Miss Duff Gordons, meeting Tosti the singer and tall young Carlo Orsi from one of the old castelli in the Tuscan valley of Signa. He was very naïve about his coming to London, and his asking himself when he woke, ‘And can it be thou, Carlo, who art here?’ Mrs. Caulfield (née Crampton[346]) and Tosti sang exquisitely in the evening.”
“June 14.—With Mrs. Stewart to Alma Tadema’s studio—a small house on the north of the Regent’s Park. Inside it is a labyrinth of small rooms with gilt walls and ceilings, and doors hung with quaint draperies. A vague light fell through alabaster windows upon Madame Tadema in a cloth of gold dress backed by violet draperies. The Dutch artist, her husband, thinks her red hair glorious, and introduces her in all his pictures. In his studio is a strange picture of ‘The Triumph of Death’ by Breughel the Devil. I was glad to meet again Madame Riaño—Doña Emilia de Guyangos—gliding through the half-dark rooms after the ubiquitous wife of Tom Hughes.”
“June 15.—Luncheon with Lady Dorothy Nevill in her charming house in Charles Street, which has all the attractions of an old manor. Lady Dorothy is very pretty still, like a piece of Dresden china. She and Lord Houghton were very amusing over Mr. Wolff,[347] who married her aunt, Lady Georgiana. Nothing could persuade him to cleanliness. Once they tried to insist upon his washing his hands, and took him to a jug, basin, and clean towel for the purpose, but he would only dip the ends of his fingers in the jug and dry them on his pocket-handkerchief. If he went to stay anywhere, he would never take any luggage. He was, however, persuaded for three days to take three clean shirts, but he arrived with them all on, and peeled gradually.
“Mr. Wolff went to stay with George Anthony Denison, who was frightfully bored with him. He stayed a week. As he was in the carriage going off from the door, Mr. Denison said to him, ‘Well, good-bye, my dear fellow; I’m sorry you’re going.’—‘Are you sorry I’m going?’ said a gruff voice from the carriage; ‘then I’ll stay another week.’”
“June 16.—A huge party at Devonshire House—the staircase most beautiful.”