Before disclosing the fact to Arditi, or any other member of my Company, I invited Mdlle. Titiens and Mdme. Trebelli, with Signor and Mdme. Arditi, over to Paris for a fortnight's holiday prior to the commencement of our laborious London season. Amongst the places of amusement we visited was the Théâtre Lyrique, where the Swedish singer was that night filling the _rôle_ of "Martha." I must say I was not impressed myself, whilst the remainder of the party thought nothing whatever of her. I, therefore, refrained from even hinting that I had already engaged her. As the time approached, the lady insisted on making her _début_ as "Martha." I plainly foresaw that it would be the greatest possible mistake to acquiesce in her desire; and, after a lengthy discussion, Verdi's _Traviata_ was decided upon. I at once instructed a Bond Street dressmaker to make her four of the most elegant toilettes possible, discarding _in toto_ the costume of the 16th century so far as "Violetta" was concerned. At all times it is a difficult thing for a manager to employ with advantage assistants placed among the audience to support either a new singer or a new piece; for grave mistakes are sure to be made, thus defeating the object for which the supporters were intended. I have often known singers send in friends to applaud; but they invariably begin their uproar on the appearance of the singer, even before he or she has uttered a sound. On one occasion I recollect at Her Majesty's Theatre a singer appearing in _Il Trovatore_, and about a dozen bouquets falling at her feet from the top boxes before she had sung a note. I saw that great judgment was necessary, while convinced in my own mind that I possessed a jewel of the first water. I, therefore, gave the very simplest instructions as to the amount of encouragement necessary for my fair Swede in order to ensure the rapture of London; knowing that when once serious attention had been drawn to her she could do the rest herself on her own merits. Being very fond of rowing in my spare time on the River Thames, I made an arrangement with the head-boatman at Essex Stairs, near where I resided, to supply me with some twenty-five horny-handed watermen, who were merely told that they should receive one shilling apiece provided they did _not_ applaud Mdlle. Nilsson--the lady who would appear on the stage at the beginning of the opera, wearing a pink dress. They were moreover informed that when the first act was over and the curtain down, they would be paid a shilling apiece for each time they could get it up again; and I believe they succeeded some five or six times in their repeated attempts. That was all that was ever done for Mdlle. Nilsson; her extraordinary talent did the rest. At all events, it gave her a fair start, and her _début_ was the talk of London.