ays: Autumn, Christmas Holidays, and
Spring. In August when the rest of the world was at holiday the
theatres, cleaned and renewed for a fresh attempt at the conquest of
the multitude (which is unconquerable, going its million different
ways), were filled with hopeful, busy people, hoping for success to
give them the tranquil easy time and the security which, always looked
for, never comes.

The Imperium had been re-upholstered and redecorated, and the fact was
duly advertised. Mr Smithson, in the leisure given him by his being
relieved of full responsibility for the scenery, had painted a new
act-drop, photographs of which appeared in the newspapers. Mr Gillies
was interviewed. Sir Henry was interviewed, Charles Mann was
interviewed. The ball of publicity was kept rolling merrily. Even Mr
Halford Bunn, the famous author whose new play had been put back, lent
a hand by attacking the new cranky scenery in the columns of a
respectable daily paper, and giving rise to a lengthy correspondence in
which Charles came in for a good deal of hearty abuse on the ground
that he had given to other countries the gifts that belonged to his
own. He plunged into the fray, and pointed out that he had left his
own country because it was pleasanter to starve in a sunny climate.

He was intoxicated with anticipation of his triumph. The practical
difficulties which he had created, and those which had been put in his
way by Mr Gillies and Mr Smithson had been surmounted, and to see his
designs in being, actually realised in the large on back-cloths, wings,
and gauzes, gave him the sense of solidity which, had it come into his
life before, might have made him almost a normal person.... Clara was
to be Ariel. The beloved child was to bring the magic of her
personality to kindle the beauty he had created in form and colour. He
was almost reconciled to the idea of the characters in the fantasy
being impersonated by men and women.

Sir Henry had returned to town enthusiastic and eager. Mann and Clara
were a combination strong enough to break the tyranny of the social use
of the front of the house over the artistic employment of the stage.
This season at all events Lady Butcher and Lady Bracebridge should not
have things all their own way.

There was a slight set back and disappointment. An upstart impresario
brought over from Germany a production in which form and design had
broken down naturalism. This was presented at one of th