asion only, the Duke of Disguisebury,--his own property, the Island
of St. Endellion, just to see, we suppose, what sort of people the
Quaker family may be from which his mistress, the Dancing Quakeress
(and how funny she used to be at the Music Halls and at the Gaiety!),
has sprung. For some reason or other, the Dancing Quakeress has gone
to stay a few weeks with her family in the country, and while this
hypocritical Daughter of HERODIAS is with her Quaker belongings at
prayers in the Meeting House, the spirit moveth her to come out,
and to come out uncommonly strong, as, within a yard or so of the
building, she laughs and talks loudly with Gooseberry, and then in a
light-hearted way she treats the Dook to some amateur imitations of
ELLEN TERRY, finishing up with a reminiscence of KATE VAUGHAN; all
of which _al fresco_ entertainment is given for the benefit of the
aforesaid Gooseberry within sound of the sermon and within sight of
the Meeting House windows. Suddenly her rustic Quaker lover, a kind
of _Ham Peggotty_, lounges out of the Conventicle, which, as these
persons seem to leave and enter just when it suits them, ought rather
to be called a Chapel-of-Ease,--and, like the clown that he is, says
in effect, "I'm a-looking at yer! I've caught yer at it!" Dismay
of Dook and Dancer!! then Curtain on a most emphatically effective
situation.

[Illustration: Two "Regular Dawgs" having a _tete-a-tete._]

The Second Act is far away the best of the lot, damaged, however, by
vain repetitions of words and actions. To the house where Miss Dancing
Girl is openly living under the protection of Gooseberry, the Duke's
worthy Steward actually brings his virtuous and ingenuous young
daughter! If ever there were a pair of artful, contriving, scheming
humbugs, it is this worthy couple. Because the Duke saved her from
being run over by his own horses, therefore she considers herself
at liberty to limp after him, and round him, and about him, on every
possible occasion, to say sharp, priggish things to him, to make love
to him, and in the Third Act so craftily to manage as to spot him just
as he is about to drink off a phial of poison, which operation, being
preceded by a soliloquy of strong theatrical flavour and considerable
length, gives the lame girl a fair chance of hobbling down the stairs
and arresting the thus "spotted Nobleman's" arm at the critical
moment. Curtain, and a really fine dramatic situation. "Which nobody
can deny.