be says she resembled Mara so
much that the same observations would apply to both equally well. "Both
were excellent musicians, thoroughly skilled in their profession; both
had voices of uncommon sweetness and agility, particularly suited to the
bravura style, and executed to perfection and with good taste everything
they sang. But neither was Italian, and consequently both were deficient
in recitative. Neither had much feeling, both were deficient in
theatrical talents, and they were absolutely null as actresses;
therefore they were more calculated to give pleasure in the concert-room
than on the stage." It was noticed that her pronunciation of the English
language was not quite free from impurities, arising principally from
the introduction of vowels before consonants, a habit probably acquired
from the Italian custom. "Her whole style of elocution," observes one
writer, "may be described as sweet and persuasive rather than powerful
and commanding. It naturally assumed the character of her mind and
voice." She was considered the most accomplished singer that had ever
been born in England.

Mrs. Billington displayed her talents in a variety of operatic
characters, which taxed her versatility, but did not prove beyond her
powers. Both English and Italian operas, serious and comic _roles_,
seemed entirely within her scope; and those who admired her as _Mandane_
were not less fascinated by her _Rosetta_, when Ineledon shared the
honors of the evening with herself. In spite of Lord Mount Edgcumbe's
somewhat severe judgment as given above, she appears to have pleased by
her acting as well as singing, if we can judge from the wide diversity
of characters in which she appeared so successfully. We are justified in
this, especially from the character of the English opera, of which Mrs.
Billington was so brilliant an exponent; for this was rather musical
drama than opera, and made strong demands on histrionic faculty.
As _Rosetta_, in "Love in a Village," a performance in which Mrs.
Billington was peculiarly charming, she drew such throngs that the price
of admission was raised for the nights on which it was offered. The
witticism of Jekyl, the great barrister, made the town laugh on one of
these occasions. Being present with a country friend in the pit, the
latter asked him, as Mrs. Billington appeared in the garden-scene, "Is
that Rosetta?" The singer's portly form, which had increased largely in
bulk during her Italian absenc