Yesterday was a beautiful summer day, the ideal Sunday of Bishop Keble—"The bridal of the earth and sky." We walked through the "Church Parade" coming back from Westminster. There were quantities of pretty girls dotted about the Park, looking so fresh and cool in their white dresses. I had various visits. Sunday is the man's day in London, and the afternoon is generally interesting. The Spanish Ambassador came in. He had been lunching at Sheen with the Comte de Paris, and told me that the Prince asked him if he had seen his Collègue de France lately, and what he thought of the state of things in France, and particularly what he thought of Boulanger. I told him I didn't think the French Ambassador shared the Comte de Paris' enthusiasm for that hero, but that he had better ask him.
About 5.30 W. and I started for White Lodge, Richmond Park, to dine with Princess Mary and the Duke of Teck. We found quite a party assembled in the garden around a tea-table, the Princess making the tea herself, Princess May and some of the young ones helping. The talk was pleasant and easy, Princess Mary is a charming hostess and likes to talk (which is certainly not the case with all English women). She is very stout, but has a beautiful head and fine presence. Tosti and Picolellis dined, and played divinely after dinner. The evening was enchanting. We all sat in the big drawing-room opening on the garden. There was not much light, the moon shining through the trees, and the two artists playing as if inspired anything anyone asked for, from a Spohr sonata to an Italian canzonetta. I thought we should stay there all night—no one wanted to go home. The drive home was lovely, the London streets are so quiet Sunday night.
June 6th.
This morning was the great meet of the coaches, and our terrace of course is in great request as it gives directly on the Park. It is always a pretty sight as everyone turns out. Lord Fife had the Prince of Wales with him, and the Princess was driving about with her three daughters in a victoria. The news of the German Emperor is very bad.
June 10th.
This afternoon we had lovely music at Frank Schuster's. Both Wolff and Hollman played divinely. They are great rivals, both Dutchmen, and both great favourites (Hollman is 'cello). A trio with them and Mdme. Kleeberg at the piano is absolutely perfect.
Our dinner at the Monks' was pleasant. I had Sir Rivers Wilson next to me, and he is a charming neighbour, has been everywhere, knows everybody, and talks easily without any pose. There was a concert in the evening—very good—Trebelli, Lloyd, Nordica, etc. I made acquaintance with Nordica, who is an American, Miss Norton, from Boston I think. She sings beautifully. I said to her (they were all talking hard between the songs), "What a noise! Can you ever begin?" "Oh, certainly," she said, "I shall make much more noise than they do," and she was quite right. Her voice rang through the room. One of her songs was Delibes' "Filles de Cadiz," which she sang splendidly.
June 12th.
This afternoon we have been sight-seeing. Jean came to breakfast, and we started off with Jusserand and St. Genys to see the Panorama of Niagara, which they say is extremely well done. I wanted the foreigners to have an idea of our great Falls, for I think in their hearts they were rather disposed to agree with a statement in one of the Swiss guide-books in speaking of the falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen, "generally supposed to surpass the celebrated Falls of Niagara in America." However they were agreeably disappointed and were much pleased and interested. The Panorama is really very good. It is so many years since I have seen Niagara that I had forgotten how magnificent the Horse Shoe Fall is, and I almost expected to hear the roar of the cataract, and to see the little Indian boy selling moccasins and maple sugar. I wonder if I would like maple sugar now. One of my French friends, Mdme. Casimir Perier, to whom I offered as a great treat some American home-made gingerbread, could hardly swallow it, and assured me that I couldn't eat it either if it had not been a "souvenir d'enfance." On leaving Niagara we went to the Aquarium to see a dog show. There were some fine specimens, but I didn't think any of the fox terriers as good as my Boniface. We also saw a swimming match, young ladies disporting themselves in the water in most wonderful costumes. Then to change our ideas we went into Westminster Abbey, just getting there for the end of the afternoon service. We heard the anthem, which was beautiful. It is such a good choir—some of the boys' voices divine, and they look like such little angels in their white surplices. A good many people were waiting to go round the Abbey at the end of the service, and we had some difficulty in getting away from the various guides who haunt the church and fall upon strangers. We wandered about with Jusserand for our cicerone. He knows everything about everything, and we had an interesting hour. Some of the old tombs are so curious. We got back to the Embassy for tea, having enjoyed ourselves immensely. I think in her heart Jean was rather shocked at the Aquarium performance—didn't think it was exactly the place for me—that was the reason I liked it, I suppose, I am so often now in the place where I ought to be.