At a party at Sir Arthur Sullivan's one evening, I was asked to sing the Lord Chancellor's enormous patter song. I could not remember it; so Lord Hopetoun, himself a most excellent humorous singer, volunteered to prompt me. The effect was most ludicrous; for Lord Hopetoun had really to sing quickly the whole of the song about one bar ahead of me. After this, Arthur sat at the piano, and Lord Hopetoun and myself arrayed ourselves in a few antimacassars and performed a graceful ballet; that is to say, as graceful as the circumstances would permit.
A kind letter from my old friend, Alfred Cellier, respecting the death of my father, reminds me of another evening at Sir Arthur Sullivan's. We had been previously to a dinner-party and subsequent reception at Lady Sebright's, where I was introduced to Mrs. Langtry—it being, I believe, her first introduction to London Society.
Subsequently, Sullivan persuaded Cellier, Arthur Cecil, and myself, and I fancy a few others, including Archibald Stuart Wortley, to return to his rooms at 9 Albert Mansions, where the gifted composer was then residing. We stayed very late—much later than I would dare stay up now. I left with Alfred Cellier, and he asked me if I could drop him in Park Lane, as he had another party to go to. There was every excuse for my being astonished, considering it was half-past four in the morning and the beautiful daylight had long since appeared. I acquiesced, and the next day asked Cellier if he did not find that everybody had gone.
"No, indeed," replied Cellier; "in fact, I was the first arrival."
Rather an early card party!
Speaking of Mrs. Langtry, recalls to my mind a curious incident affecting both of us. I was asked to a musical party in Prince's Gardens, and proceeded there after my work at the theatre. On arriving in the locality, and seeing the awning out, and the usual line of footmen, and the will-o'-the-wisp linkman, I shouted to the cabman, who was passing the door, to stop. I gave up my coat and walked into the drawing-room, being announced in the usual way. I found, however, that a ball was in full swing. I could not discover my host or hostess, although I met many people I knew. I soon ascertained that I had come to the wrong house, and, instead of being at Mrs. G——'s musical party, was at Sir William D——'s ball. I slipped downstairs—having ex-explained the matter to a friend of Sir William's—got my coat, and went to Mrs. G——'s, which was a few doors off. As I was proceeding upstairs I met Mrs. Langtry coming down, and she said:
"Oh, Mr. Grossmith, I've made such a mistake! I've come to the wrong house. I ought to be at the ball at Sir William D——'s. I couldn't understand how it was there was singing and no dancing upstairs, and have only just discovered my mistake."
I replied, "You maybe comforted; I have been to Sir William D——'s by mistake, when I ought to have been here.
Lady Greville, Madame de Fonblanque, Brindley Richards, Henry S. Neville (asking me to play "Paul Pry" at the Crystal Palace), Earl of Desart, who, in kindly sending me an invitation, described the whereabouts of his house thus:
"There's a place called Victoria Lodge,
It lies in Victoria Street;
To find it, I'll tell you the dodge—
Ask ev'ry policeman you meet."