e articles, and
at times it appears that the writers suffer from colour-blindness, for
they often differ utterly as to the colours of the gowns; perhaps it is
more modern to call them "frocks."

There is, however, a simple explanation. The clothes critics have
described their subjects from an inspection at the milliner's or
modiste's or in dressing-rooms, and thus have noticed the minutiae
invisible across the footlights, and recorded colours which have changed
when viewed in another light. Moreover, they never suggest that the
dresses are ugly, or clash with one another; partly, no doubt, because
their ideal of criticism has for foundation the epitaph upon an alleged
dramatic critic to the effect that he had never caused an actor's wife
to shed a tear, and partly for the reason that they do not see the
dresses in relation to one another or from the point of view of an
audience on the other side of the orchestra. Even less charitable
explanations might be made.

The scene-painter works with a broad brush; he knows that microscopic
detail would be wasted, and worse than wasted, for it would cause a
muddy effect. Sometimes, but too rarely, he is even a believer in pure
colour. The stage _modiste_ has other theories, or perhaps none. Instead
of seeing that all demanded or permitted by the optics of the stage lies
in line and colour, she breaks up line by ridiculous ribbon, foolish
flounces and impertinent bows, and the dresses in colouring often "swear
at one another." Even the translated French phrase is not quite strong
enough to indicate the discord. Does she ever consider the costumes in
relation to the scenery? Sometimes we see frocks in tender hues against
richly toned scenes that make them appear mere shades of dirty yellows,
blues and pinks. At others a cool, tranquilly pleasing background is
degraded to mere dulness in consequence of the gaudy gowns in front of
it. Does the word _repoussoir_ mean any thing to her? Perhaps she is
unacquainted with the meaning of it although she possesses a jargon of
French as staggering as that of a menu in a British hotel.

There are other crimes. It has been said that your fashionable milliner
sometimes "tries it on the dog." It is hinted that she makes upon the
beautiful ladies of the stage experiments which she dare not risk upon
her more exalted patrons. If this be true it will explain the fact that
many an actress who is beautiful outside the theatre seems plain on the
boa