DEAR LAURA,--The weather was atrociously bad when we returned to New York,
and as for Boston--it was simply impossible. I began coughing and sneezing
as soon as I reached home. So I decided to go to Washington on a visit to
Mrs. Robeson, wife of the Secretary of the Navy. She had often asked me;
this was an excellent opportunity to accept.
Mrs. Robeson is a fine woman, built on ministerial, lines, and looks like
a war-ship in review rig. They have an amusing house. Their Sunday
evenings are the rendezvous of clever people; the men are particularly
entertaining--Mr. Blaine, Mr. Bayard, and other shining lights.
She is musical, and sings with pleasure. She has a luscious mezzo-soprano.
She sang "Robin Adair" on one of these occasions with so much conviction
that it seemed as though she was routing Robin from his first sleep. Then
she sang a French song in a childish voice (she thought it was a
_backfisch_ song); but I think it was anything but that, for I noticed
some Scandi-knavish glances between the Danish and Swedish Ministers,
which made me suspicious.
There is a delightful German Minister (Mr. Schlözer) here, who is very
musical; though he does not know a note of music, he can improvise for
hours.