as
broken up on the occasion of this, my third visit, by our hostess's
indisposition. She was seized with a violent attack of neuralgia in
the head, to which she was subject, and by which she was compelled
to take to her bed, and remain there in darkness and almost
intolerable suffering for hours, and sometimes days together. I have
known her prostrated by a paroxysm of this sort when she had invited
a large party to dinner, and obliged to leave her husband to do the
honors to their guests, while she betook herself to solitary
confinement in a darkened room.

On the present occasion the gentlemen guests took their departure
for London, and I should have done the same, but that Mrs. Grote
entreated me to remain, for the chance of her being soon rid of her
torment. Towards the middle of the day she begged me to come to her
room, when, feeling, I presume, some temporary relief, she presently
began talking vehemently to me about a French opera of "The
Tempest," by Halevy, I believe, which had just been produced in
Paris, with Madame Rossi Sontag as Miranda, and Lablache as Caliban.
Mrs. Grote was violent in her abuse of the composition, deploring,
as I joined her in doing, that Mendelssohn should not have taken
"The Tempest" for the subject of an opera, and so prevented less
worthy composers from laying hands upon it.

Towards this time Mrs. Grote became absorbed by a passionate
enthusiasm for Mademoiselle Jenny Lind, of whom she was an
idolatrous worshipper, and who frequently spent her days of leisure
at the Beeches. Mrs. Grote engrossed Mademoiselle Jenny Lind in so
curious a manner that, socially, the accomplished singer could
hardly be approached but through her. She was kind enough to ask me
twice to meet her, when Mendelssohn and herself were together at
Burnham--an offer of a rare pleasure, of which I was unable to avail
myself. I remember, about this time, a comical conversation I had
with her, in which, after surveying and defining her social position
and its various advantages, she exclaimed, "But I want some lords,
Fanny. Can't you help me to some lords?" I told her, laughingly,
that I thought the lady who held watch and ward over Mademoiselle
Jenny Lind might have as many lords at her feet as she pleased....

Besides her literary and artistic tastes, she took a keen i