I am amazed to hear of the snow (I don't know why, but it excited John
this morning beyond measure); though we have had the same east wind
here, and _the_ cold and _my_ cold have both been intense.
Yesterday evening Webster, Mark, Stanny, and I went to the Olympic,
where the Wigans ranged us in a row in a gorgeous and immense private
box, and where we saw "Still Waters Run Deep." I laughed (in a
conspicuous manner) to that extent at Emery, when he received the
dinner-company, that the people were more amused by me than by the
piece. I don't think I ever saw anything meant to be funny that struck
me as so extraordinarily droll. I couldn't get over it at all. After the
piece we went round, by Wigan's invitation, to drink with him. It being
positively impossible to get Stanny off the stage, we stood in the wings
during the burlesque. Mrs. Wigan seemed really glad to see her old
manager, and the company overwhelmed him with embraces. They had nearly
all been at the meeting in the morning.
I have seen Charley only twice since I came to London, having regularly
been in bed until mid-day. To my amazement, my eye fell upon him at the
Adelphi yesterday.
This day I have paid the purchase-money for Gad's Hill Place. After
drawing the cheque, I turned round to give it to Wills (L1,790), and
said: "Now isn't it an extraordinary thing--look at the day--Friday! I
have been nearly drawing it half-a-dozen times, when the lawyers have
not been ready, and here it comes round upon a Friday, as a matter of
course."
Kiss the noble Plorn a dozen times for me, and tell him I drank his
health yesterday, and wished him many happy returns of the day; also
that I hope he will not have broken all his toys before I come back.
Ever affectionately.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]