The next day we were invited to a _matinée musicale_ at Lady Dudley's, preceded by a luncheon, which Mr. Osbourne called "a snare," because, he said, I could not refuse to sing. I did not want to refuse, either. The piano was in the beautiful picture-gallery, all full of Greuze's pictures bought from the Vatican; it has the most wonderful acoustics, and the voice sounded splendidly in it. Lady Dudley is a celebrated beauty. Lord Dudley--before he succeeded to the title--was Lord Ward. The Duke and Duchess of Sutherland asked us to dine. This was a very imposing affair; the Duke of Cambridge was at the dinner as the _grosse pièce_, and there were many diplomats. After dinner several artists came from Covent Garden, and among them Madame Patti, who sang the "Cavatina" of "Lucia," with flute accompaniment, and how beautifully! When I was introduced to her I said, "The first time I heard you sing was years ago when I was a little girl and you were in short dresses." "In Rochester," I replied. "I shall never forget how exquisitely you sang 'Ah! non giunge' and 'Ernani.'" "Yes, I remember quite well. I was singing in concerts with Ole Bull; but that was a long time ago." "It was indeed," I said; "but I have never forgotten your voice, nor a lovely song you sang which I have never heard since, called 'Happy Birdling of the Forest.' And your trill! Just like the bird itself!" We became quite good friends, and she made me promise to come to see her. She is charming. Every one was most enthusiastic. Some one said she gets a thousand pounds for an evening. The Marquis de Caux (her husband) looked rather out of place. It seemed queer to see him again, not as the brilliant Marquis of the Tuileries (the "beau" _par excellence_), but simply as the husband of Patti. He did not find a chance to speak to me. Some days later Lady Anglesey gave a luncheon for me. On the invitations were, "To meet Mrs. Moulton." I read between the lines: to hear Mrs. Moulton sing. They always put on their invitations, "To meet" so and so. Mr. Quimby said to me, "I liked you from the first moment I saw you, but I had no idea you were going to be such a beast." "Beast!" I echoed. "That is not very complimentary." "A lion is a beast, isn't it?" he jokingly replied. "Am I going to be a lion? I did not know it." "Well, you are a lioness, which is better." He is considered the wit of London, and this is a specimen of his wit. What do you think?