I went in the evening to a ball and concert at the Baronesa de Campos: on entering, I was met by the young ladies of the family, and led up to their grandmother; and after paying my compliments to her, I was placed among the division of the family where I had most acquaintance. There were only two Englishwomen besides Lady Cochrane and myself, and these were the wives of the consul and the commissioner for the slave business. A foreign gentleman present remarked, that though we were but four, we hardly conversed together. This was perfectly true: I like, when I am in foreign society, to talk to foreigners; and think it neither wise nor civil to form coteries with those of one's own nation in such cases. Several rooms were open, for cards; the stakes, I fancy, were high. The tea-room was no sooner full, than tea was handed round; and I perceived that some of the older servants, with great respect indeed, spoke to such of the guests as they were acquainted with. After tea, I had the pleasure of again hearing Dona Rosa sing, and almost grudged my gayer companions their ball, which broke in upon that "sober certainty of waking bliss," which music inspires into all, and especially to those who have known sorrow. I am no musician; but sweet sounds, especially those of the human voice, whether in speaking or singing, have a singular power over me. After the first dance was over, we walked all about the house, and found a magnificent dining-room as to size, but scarcely furnished to correspond with the rest of the house; the bed-rooms and dressing-rooms of the ladies are neat and elegantly fitted up with English and French furniture; and all as different as possible from the houses I saw in Bahia. I am told that they are likewise as different from what they were here twenty years since, and can well believe it; even during the twelve months of my absence from Rio, I see a wonderful polishing has taken place, and every thing is gaining an European air.