Prior to the opening of my London season of 1868 I received another visit from my philanthropic friend, Mr. Wagstaff. He told me that he had purchased Mr. Gye's interest, showing me the agreement, and he considered that it would be more desirable that Covent Garden for the future should be run by a Company, of which I should be the manager, receiving some £20,000 cash as a consideration for my goodwill and for any property I might have in music or other effects, with a salary of £3,000 a year as long as I chose to retain my post, and a fair share in the profits. I became quite uncomfortable at having so much wealth suddenly thrust upon me, and wished I were back in my old position of trouble and anxiety. In due course all the necessary documents were signed, Mr. Gye at the same time writing a letter to a high personage, in which he stated that his long-sought desire to quit the cares of management had at length been satisfied, and strongly urged that all patronage should now be transferred to me, as the shattered state of his health would preclude him for the future from taking part in operatic affairs. On entering upon my duties I began to reorganize the establishment by, in the first place, relieving myself of some sixty old choristers who had been engaged from time immemorial, and introducing in their stead my fresh, full-voiced young Italians whom I had imported the previous year. One evening a card was brought to me from a young gentleman, the son of an old musical friend of mine, requesting an interview. He told me that he had been promised the secretaryship of the Grand Opera (meaning Her Majesty's and Covent Garden, united under the new arrangement) for seven years at a salary of £800 a year, provided he lent £200 for a month to my philanthropic friend, who had organized the whole thing. It appeared to me like a dream. I could not understand it; but still, as nothing astonishes me in this world, I took it as a matter of course, and later in the day went over to Wandsworth to call on Mr. Gye, in order to see how matters stood. On my entering, Mr. Gye said how pleased he was to leave operatic management for ever, and that he wondered how he had found the nerve to continue it so long. Before I could say a word to him, he desired me to be seated and handed me a cigar, when he began to inform me of his plans for the future. He told me he had secured by private treaty a vast estate in Scotland of some 20,000 acres, with the right of shooting and fishing. He was arranging, moreover, to purchase a large estate in Oxfordshire. Various guns had been ordered, with fishing rods and other appurtenances. Steps, too, had been taken for the sale of the house in which he was then living. I made two or three attempts to get a word in, but without success; and at last I had scarcely the courage to hint that the projected arrangements might, possibly, not be carried out.