I went straight to the theatre, the old
one with gas lamps for footlights. "Don Giovanni" of Mozart was given
for the first time in this very theatre they told me, and was, I
believe, directed by Mozart himself. I duly sang my _Dalila_ and sped
back to Darmstadt, where I had to sing _Frau Reich_ Thursday night; and
this tiring lady has to have a certain lightness of touch no matter how
much train smoke you have swallowed. My troubles were not over yet as I
had to take the train that night for Edinboro, Scotland, where I was to
appear with the orchestra, and on the following night in Glasgow. The
journey was long and tedious, and the only bright spot I can remember
was while we crossed a bit of Belgium. We had had a lunch basket handed
in with the typical bottle of _vin rouge_, and neither Marjorie nor I
wanted it. The next time our train slowed down we happened to have an
engine beside us, and I handed the wine through the window to the
driver, who received it with true Belgian imperturbability.

I was very tired and very sick crossing the channel. We arrived in
London in a terrible storm, feeling absolutely exhausted. Marjorie said,
"The only thing that hasn't happened is, that we have not yet lost our
baggage." We waited on the cold platform--it was November,--till all the
luggage had been taken out of the vans--no familiar trunks for us. I
went worn out to the hotel, leaving poor Marjorie to struggle. She made
the round of the stations where possible trains from the coast might be
met--all of no avail. The next day was Sunday and we could not possibly
have found a gown for me to use at the concert. We slept that night in
towels and underclothes, and if you've ever done it you know what sort
of an all-night funeral _that_ is. The next morning early the missing
trunks were found and we continued our journey. We were much amused when
we found that no trains left for Scotland during the day on Sunday, and
that they had to wait for the friendly cover of the night before they
dared nefariously to slip out and break the Sabbath calm. Monday night I
almost broke down on the platform during the concert, in one of the
hugest halls in the world. Marjorie comforted me and sent for some
whiskey which I gulped down between songs. Gradually the chilled blood
in me thawed, and my voice with it, my nerve came back and I scored a
success, as I did the following night in Glasgow. We then went back to
Darmstadt the quickest possible way,