The best proof that my husband's nervous system was now strong and healthy, is that for the first time in his life he proposed that we should go together to the private view of the Champ de Mars to meet the President of the Republic. We had a card of invitation, and I was so happy to see him well, and to mark the respectful greetings which met him from all quarters, that I enjoyed the day thoroughly. He was perfectly calm the whole time, in contrast with the excitement surging around him, and at night he wrote in the diary:—
"We went, wife and I, to the Champ de Mars, and saw the President of the
Republic arrive, and all the artistic notabilities who received him.
After the lunch, saw the exhibition well, and selected two pictures for
Scribner. Was much impressed by Tissot's 'Life of Christ.'
"We were much amused by the extravagance of the toilettes, particularly the feminine."
In April he called upon MM. Louis Deschamps and Checa for notes of a biographical kind. There was an instantaneous sympathy between him and M. Checa, who was very cordial and communicative, and who soon returned his visit. After the publication of the article concerning him, M. Checa wrote: "Je vous remercie très vivement de cet article, sûrement le plus exact que l'on ait fait sur moi."
In the studio of M. Checa my husband had met an American artist, Mr. R. J. Wickenden, who lived at Auvers, and who, being well acquainted with his works, wished to paint a portrait of the author. During the sittings a friendship was formed between model and painter. The portrait was exhibited in America at Mr. Keppel's.
Mr. Hamerton having been invited to preside at a meeting and dinner of the Society of Illustrators, and to deliver a lecture on the history of their art, fixed an earlier date than he had intended for his proposed visit to London, to comply with their wishes.
He started alone on May 4, going by way of Dieppe, and wrote in the diary: "Capital passage. Enjoyed sea and color very much indeed."
On the 6th he wrote to M. Raillard that he was well enough, but that on arriving at Charing Cross the trunk containing his clothes was missing. He ended by saying: "And I have to preside over a dinner to-morrow! At all events I cannot do it in a flannel shirt!… I am in a pretty mess!"
He had almost decided to buy a ready-made suit in this emergency, when he recovered the lost trunk. After the dinner he wrote me a long account of it in French. The reception given him by the Illustrators had been most cordial. His speech had been delivered without nervousness or hesitation, and with the curious illusion that he was listening to somebody else.
There had been an animated debate on the grievances of the Illustrators, who complained of the small space allotted to the exhibition of their works in the Academy. They seemed disposed to sign a protest, when he had offered to go and see Sir Frederick Leighton, and to talk the subject over with him, as president of the meeting. He ended his letter with a promise to have his photograph taken on the morrow by Messrs. Elliott and Fry.