Mummery

ews and made it impossible for the papers to publish Charles Mann's scheme. His committee's dread of being made publicly ridiculous evaporated, and, as Lord Verschoyle di

soul. He said this publicly in a newspaper and produced one of those delightful controversies which in the once

mount, and Charles regarded himself as worth thirty thousand already, raised Mr Clott'

engage Charles speedily he would simply fling away from the theatre and devote himself, unsupported except by Verschoyle, who was by no means a certain quantity, to his airy schemes. Already he was beginning to be swayed by letters from well-meaning persons in the provinces, who urged him to found another Bayreuth in the Welsh Hills or the Forest of Arden.... G

ogey to frighten away the mammas who had made his life hideous ever since his Eton days, when one of his aunts had horrified him by referring to one of his co

blobs stood for trees and clouds. To Sir Henry a tree was a tree, a cloud a cloud, and he liked nothing better than to have real rabbits on the stage, if possible to out-Nature Nature.... At the same time he knew that the public was changing. It was becoming increasingly difficult to produce an instantaneous success. The theatre did not stand where it had done in popular esteem, and its personalities had no longer the vivid authority they had once enjoyed. When the Prime Minister visited the Imperium, it was rather Sir Henry than the Prime Minister who was honoured: a sad declension, for Prime Ministers come and go, but a great actor rules for ever as sole lessee and manager of an institution as familiar to the general mind as the House of Commons. Prime Ministers had come and gone, they had in turn accepted Sir Henry's kind offer of a box for the first night, but latterly Prime Ministers had gathered popularity and actor-managers had lost it, so great had been the deterioration of the public mind since the introduction of cheap newspapers, imposing

its manager had to make up his mind as to his new production. Mr Gillies was all for s

ome back from Karlsbad and Scotland cleaned up and scraped, and it is then tha

ot nothi

fellow

ed into the Club half the

ade himse

in the w

s often the righ

f, after the way he has talked about us,

nothing so much as teasing his loyal subordinates. 'We've nothing but t

great success as a

remembered the horrible time he had had at rehearsals with Mr Halford Bunn who would get so drunk wi

nry la

hope you've got a record run." Said Mr Bunn

!' laughed

y a merger of his contracts with the two of them.... Oh! dear. Oh, dear, authors had always been trial enough, but if artists were going to begin to thrust their inflat

ve him an opening for flirtation, but kept his wits at full stretch and made him feel thirty again: and as he felt thirty he wanted to be thirty.... She never discussed her private affairs with him, but he knew that she lived alone. She baffled him, bewildered him, until he was often hard put to it not to burst into tears. So quick she was and she understood so well, had so keen an insight into character and the in

ious characters, more real than any of the persons with whom she ever came in contact until she met Charles Mann.... He was never admitted to her rooms, nor was Sir Henry Butcher, in whom she had for the first time encountered the ordinary love of the ordinary sentimental male. This left her so unmoved that she detested it, with all

the extra ten pounds to Mr Gillies, the manager, pointing out that she was doing

you, Miss Day. He doesn

y kind of thing

illies. 'Indeed, I often wonder what a young lady who

it, and he was quick to see his mistake, and so warmly pleaded that he had only meant it as a kindness that she could not but for

ears I will make a great actress of you. You shall be the great woman of your

alk business. You promised early this year

mpest will you come and stay with us in The Lakes in August? I want you to meet the Bracebridges; you ou

though Clara knew that it was impossible to keep Sir He

pest I can get Lord Ver

once jealous. He

I want to help you.... Verschoyle can't appreciate you. He

xquisite tact and taste, delighting in it as he did in a work of art, or a good book, and appreciating fully that the girl's capacity for it wa

onti

than old Julia.... An actress nowadays has her part to pla

lara, 'let us

want to do

s said

g in the theatre.... I would give up everythi

ation, and she was never fonder of the man than in this moment of self-humiliation. He waited for some relaxation i

ling: it is tragic. To have made so great a position a

ciously, and she so hurt him that he collapsed in his

t part. I will do The Tempest if you will be Miranda; at lea

to supper,' said Clara. 'And we can all t

ou know that I sometimes think he has u

point. She felt certain that a combination of Butcher, Cha

m. He is a renegade. He loathes his own c

ow him you w

round and fixed

hing, and then one day you will fall in love and your genius will be laid at the feet

ssive familiarity with noble words

gray and green, and gray shoes with cross-straps about her exquisite ankles. She came with Verschoyle, who brought her in his car which he had placed at her disposa

inary fellow, most extraordinary.... Pity his life should be wasted, especi

enry

talked. Take this man Shaw, for instance. He talked for

said Ve

espeare for more hundred nights than any man in the history of the British drama, and I venture to say that every man of eminence a

a was pleased with him for that.... She enjoyed this meeting of her two friends. Ve

came in bubbling over with enthusiasm. His portfolio was u

rning the theatre into a circus. Their idea of a modern Helle

e. 'Horrible! We must do b

done b

er Clara's hand

. 'Very hard. My designs are nearly

delightful,' s

es's genius, it was exquisitely chosen-oysters, cold salmon, various meats, pa

s were constantly busy reaching over the table for condiments, bread, biscuits, olives, wine.... Verschoyle and Clara wer

preposterous story in which Mr Gillies, his manager, and Mr Weinberg, his musical director, were engaged in an intrigue

nd dear old Freeland shall be Ceres.... Let us be original. I haven't read Th

tha

e invisible spirits who

he purpose of forcing out those qualities in Charles which made her ready for every sacrifice, if only they could be brought to play their part in the life of his time.... As the win

ice-cream when the next hero says ice-cream.... I tell you I could put on a play by Halford Bunn to-morrow, and persuade them for a few weeks that it was better than Shakespeare. Ah! you blame us for that, but the public is

must be the end. Here at one table were money, imagination, and showmanship, the three essentials of success, but the three men in whom they lived were talking themselves into ineffectiv

them back to business. They would have none of it. Their tongues were

s's portfolio. He sprang to his feet and snat

ant to sho

late, Charles,'

d, 'a feast like th

st for at least an eight weeks' run. That was good enough for Sir Henry. He had no need to look at the drawings..

project there should have been this declension upon money and food. After all, Shakespeare wrote The Tempest and his share in its production

tackle their problem, and, after all, in the world of men, from which women were and perhaps always would be e

ood evening for twenty

s was astonished to find how much he liked Sir Henry,

hoyle

in for the theatre. There are so many of us and we can't

d her chagrin, and more happily accepted their homage when

herself now inspired with something of a horror of its immense power, which could absorb originality and force, and reduce individuals to helpless puppe

luities. Left to meet in their love of art he and Sir Henry would soon have been at loggerheads. In their love