Since that time it is quiet
again. I cannot, with all the consideration I have given it, understand
it at all. I sometimes deny myself every indulgence, and yet it comes.
I eat and drink every thing, and it does not come. But be it as God will.
"At seven o'clock in the evening we went to Covent Garden, where Rob
Roy, an opera after Sir Walter Scott's novel, was played. The house
is handsomely decorated, and not too large. When I came forward to the
front of the stage-box, that I might have a better look of it, some one
called out, Weber! Weber is here!--and although I drew back immediately,
there followed a clamour of applause which I thought would never have
ended. Then the overture to the Freyschuetz was called for, and every
time I showed myself the storm broke loose again. Fortunately, soon
after the overture, Rob Roy began, and gradually things became
quiet.--Could a man wish for more enthusiasm, or more love? I must
confess that I was completely overpowered by it, though I am of a calm
nature, and somewhat accustomed to such scenes. I know not what I would
have given to have had you by my side, that you might have seen me in
my foreign garb of honour. And now, my dear love, I can assure you that
you may be quite at ease, both as to the singers and the orchestra.
Miss Paton is a singer of the first rank, and will play Reiza divinely;
Braham not less so, though in a totally different style.
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