_Monday._ Louise and I went to drive. Do not learn anything definite about the future--where I am to be next winter--no one knows. I do not see any settled home for me any more. Sometimes I am satisfied to have it so--at others--get nervous and uneasy and discontented. Yet I have lost interest in going home--it will be so short a visit--so soon a separation--then to some other stranger place--new friends--new faces--I want the old. The surface of life does not interest me. _Tuesday._ Dined at Langs'--large party. _Wednesday 15._ Went to Crystal Palace--Mapleson's Benefit. The whole performance closed with the most magnificent display of Fireworks I ever saw--most marvellous. _16._ _Don Giovanni_--full house--great success in the part--Duchess and Lady Rossmore threw splendid bouquets--house very enthusiastic--papers fine--Mrs. McHenry and Mr. Sampson came down--Duke of Newcastle and Major Stackpoole--Miss Jarrett. _Monday. Le Nozze di Figaro._ _Tuesday. La Figula._ _Thursday._ Went to theatre. Saw Nilsson and all the artists. Went to hear Patti in _Romeo and Juliette_--Strakosch gave us the box. Strakosch introduced Rothschilds. _Friday._ _Le Nozze di Figaro._ Baron Rothschilds, Sir George Armitage came around. _Saturday._ Sir George breakfasted with Louise. Rothschilds called--letter from Mr. Stebbins. _Sunday morning._ Dr. Kellogg of Utica called--spent several hours. Santley called--and McHenry in the evening. I was greatly shocked by the heavy drinking in the 'sixties that was not only the fashion but almost the requirement of fashion in England. My horror when I first saw a titled and distinguished Englishwoman in the opera box of the Earl of Harrington (our friend of the charming luncheon party), call an attendant and order a brandy and soda will never be forgotten. It was the general custom to serve refreshments in the boxes at the opera, and bottles and glasses of all sorts passed in and out of these private "loges" the entire evening. Indeed, people never dreamed of drinking water, although they drank their wines "like water" proverbially. Such prejudice as mine has two sides, as I realise when I think of the landlady of our apartment which we rented during a later London season in Belgrave Mansions. When singing, I had to have a late supper prepared for me--something very light and simple and nourishing. Our good landlady used to be shocked almost to the verge of tears by my iniquitous habit of drinking water _pur-et-simple_ with my suppers. "Oh, miss," she would beg, "let me put a bit of sherry or _something_ in it for you! It'll hurt you that way, Miss! It'll make you ill, that it will!" CHAPTER XIX HOME AGAIN