lf-way through, he had almost ceased to
watch her. Edward Wallace, who had seen her some two or three times in
the part, was perfectly conscious of the change, and had been looking out
for it.

'Not much to be said for her, I am afraid, when she comes to business,'
he said to Kendal in a whisper, as the two leant against the door of the
box. 'Where did she get those tiresome tricks she has, that see-saw
intonation she puts on when she wants to be pathetic, and that absurd
restlessness which spoils everything? It's a terrible pity. Sometimes I
think I catch a gleam of some original power at the bottom, but there is
such a lack of intelligence--in the artist's sense. It is a striking
instance of how much and how little can be done without education.'

'It is curiously bad, certainly,' said Kendal, while the actress's
denunciations of her lover were still ringing through the theatre. 'But
look at the house! What folly it is ever to expect a great dramatic art
in England. We have no sense for the rudiments of the thing. The French
would no more tolerate such acting as this because of the beauty of the
actress than they would judge a picture by its frame. However, if men
like Forbes leave their judgment behind them, it's no wonder if commoner
mortals follow suit.'

'There!' said Wallace, with a sigh of relief as the curtain fell on the
first act, 'that's done with. There are two or three things in the second
act that are beautiful. In her first appearance as the White Lady she is
as wonderful as ever, but the third act is a nuisance--'

'No whispering there,' said Forbes, looking round upon them. 'Oh, I know
what you're after, Edward, perfectly. I hear it all with one ear.'

'That,' said Wallace, moving up to him, 'is physically impossible. Don't
be so pugnacious. We leave you the front of the box, and when we appear
in your territory our mouths are closed. But in our own domain we claim
the rights of free men.'

'Poor girl!' said Forbes, with a sigh. 'How she manages to tame London as
she does is a marvel to me! If she were a shade less perfect and
wonderful than she is, she would have been torn to pieces by you critics
long ago. You have done your best as it is, only the public won't listen
to you. Oh, don't suppose I don't see all that you see. The critical
poison's in my veins just as it is in yours, but I hold it in check--it
shan't master me. I will have my pleasure in spite of it, and when I come
across anything