To my great surprise she had only come to invite me to dinner, and never mentioned the word charity concert or music. I thought this very strange; but as she is so _distraite_ she probably did not know what time of day it was, and imagined she was making an afternoon visit. One of the stories about her is that once she went to pay a formal call on one of her colleagues, and stayed on and on until the poor hostess was in despair, as it was getting late. Suddenly the ambassadress got up and said, "Pardon, dear Madame, I am very much engaged, and if you have nothing further to say to me I should be very grateful if you would leave me." The Baroness had been under the impression that she was in her own salon. They say that, one day, when she was walking in the Vatican gardens with the Pope, and they were talking politics, she said to him, "Oh, all this will be arranged as soon as the Pope dies!" Well, we went to the dinner, which was quite a large one, and among the guests was Signor Tosti, which would seem to denote that there _was_, after all, "music in the air"; and sure enough, shortly after dinner the ambassadress begged me to sing some _petite chose_, and asked Tosti to accompany me. Neither of us refused, and I sang some of his songs which I happened to know, and some of my own, which I could play for myself. However, I felt myself recompensed, for when she thanked me she asked if I had ever been present at any of the Pope's receptions. I told her that I had not had the opportunity since I had been here. "The Pope has a reception to-morrow morning," said she. "Would you care to go? If so, I should be delighted to take you." "Oh," I said, "that is the thing of all others I should like to do!" "Then," said she, "I will call for you and take you in my carriage." This function requires a black dress, black veil, and a general funereal appearance and gloveless hands. Happily she did not forget, but came in her coupé at the appointed time to fetch me, and we drove to the Vatican. The ambassadress was received at the entrance with bows and smiles of recognition by the numerous _camerieri_ and other splendidly dressed persons, and we were led through endless beautiful rooms before arriving at the gallery where we were to wait. It was not long before his Holiness (Pius IX.) appeared, followed by his suite of monsignors and prelates. I never was so impressed in my life as when I saw him. He wore a white-cloth _soutane_ and white-embroidered _calotte_ and red slippers, and looked so kind and full of benevolence that he seemed goodness personified. I knelt down almost with pleasure on the cold floor when he addressed me, and I kissed the emerald ring which he wore on his third finger as if I had been a born Catholic and had done such things all my life. He asked me in English from which country I came, and when I answered, "America, your Holiness," he said, "What part of America?" I replied, "From Boston, Holy Father."