s happy suggestions. To him she confesses herself
to have been most indebted for what one of her admirers called "that
pointed expression, neatness of execution, and nameless grace by which
her performance was so happily distinguished."

Kelly, the Irish actor and singer, who made her acquaintance about this
time, said he thought her an angel of beauty and the St. Cecilia of
song. Her loveliness enchanted even more by the sweetness and amiability
of its expression than by symmetry of feature, and everywhere she
was the idol of an adoring public. Even her rivals, embittered by
professional jealousy, soon melted in the sunshine of her sweet temper.
An amusing example of professional rivalry is related by John Bernard in
his "Reminiscences," where Miss George, afterward Lady Oldmixon, managed
to cloud the favorite's success by a cunning musical trick. "Mrs.
Billington, who was engaged on very high terms for a limited number of
nights, made her first appearance on the Dublin stage in the character
of _Polly_ in 'The Beggars' Opera,' surrounded by her halo of
popularity. She was received with acclamations, and sang her songs
delightfully; particularly 'Cease your Funning,' which was tumultuously
encored. Miss George, who performed the part of _Lucy_ (an up-hill
singing part), perceiving that she had little chance of dividing
the applause with the great magnet of the night, had recourse to the
following stratagem: When the dialogue duet in the second act, 'Why, how
now, Madam Flirt?' came on, Mrs. Billing-ton having given her verse with
exquisite sweetness, Miss George, setting propriety at defiance, sang
the whole of her verse an octave higher, her tones having the effect of
the high notes of a sweet and brilliant flute. The audience, taken by
surprise, bestowed on her such loud applause as almost shook the walls
of the theatre, and a unanimous encore was the result."

Haydn gave this opinion on her in his "Diary" in 1791: "On the 10th of
December I went to see the opera of 'The Woodman' (by Shield). It was on
the day when the provoking memoir of Mrs. Billington was published. She
sang rather timidly, but yet well. She is a great genius. The tenor was
Incledon. The common people in the gallery are very troublesome in every
theatre, and take lead in uproar. The audience in the pit and boxes have
often to clap a long time before they can get a fine part repeated. It
was so this evening with the beautiful duet in the third act: