His sister's diary contains the following notes: "November 25.—We arrived at Paris. Our dear, handsome Fred was here to meet us. December 1.—Fred comes to see us daily, though sometimes only for five minutes. He is pale and coughs a good deal; it makes us uneasy. He often comes to dinner. Presents to us on New Year's day. Took me to the Conservatoire. Always generous. We went often to Mrs. Sartoris in the evening."
It was in Paris that Leighton probably first enjoyed to the full the culture of his instincts for the drama. Mr. and Mrs. Sartoris remained in Paris during the winter and spring, and Mr. Henry Greville arrived there on February 28th, 1856.
Extracts from his published diaries give a picture of the milieu in which Leighton's hours of relaxation from work were spent:—
27 Rue Du Faubourg St. Honoré,
Saturday, March 1, 1856.
I left London on Thursday with Flahault and Charles, and after a smooth passage slept at Boulogne and came on here yesterday. After dining tête-à-tête with the excellent doctor (the Hollands dined out), I went to Adelaide Sartoris', where I found Herbert Wilson, Leighton, and other young and good-looking artists, and some ladies whom I did not know, and amongst them Madame Kalergi, a niece of Nesselrode, a tall, large, white-looking woman, who has a reputation for cleverness and a great talent on the pianoforte. This morning I went to Leighton's studio, and saw his drawings, which are full of genius.
Thursday, March 6.
Heard in the morning that Covent Garden theatre was burnt at seven yesterday morning, and went to announce the event to Mario. In the evening, with Adelaide Sartoris and Leighton, to Ristori's rentrée in "Mirrha." She acted more finely than ever, and I was enchanted with her wonderful beauty and classic grace: her tenderness, in this part especially, is indescribable. Adelaide Sartoris had never seen her before, and was as much delighted as astonished at the performance. The audience was in a frenzy of enthusiasm, and yet I do not believe half the people present understood Italian.
Friday, March 20.
I went last night with Adelaide Sartoris and Leighton to see Ristori in Alfieri's play of "Rosmunda."
In reading it I was convinced I should be bored by so inflated a rhodomontade, and that the part of Rosmunda, being one of unmitigated fury and violence, was unsuited to an actress whose chief merit seemed to consist in her power of delineating the gentler passions. I was therefore but little prepared for the wonderful effect she produced upon me and on the audience. The play is horrible and offensive, but her manner of rendering this odious part is nothing short of sublime. Her beauty in the costume of the sixth century is beyond all description, and the manner in which she varies the phases of the same passions of hatred and vengeance, and the prodigious power of the whole impersonation, are marvellous. Her acting of the scene in the third act, when she tells Ildevaldo that Amalchilde loves Romalda, is about the best thing I have seen her do; and the last act, in which she murders her rival, and the way in which she seizes her and drags her up the steps, is like a whirlwind sweeping everything before it; too terrible almost to witness, and prevented my sleeping all night.