k corridor. Not
a glimmer of light can be obtained on some of the cases, which also are
upright, and placed so closely together that on attempting to see the
topmost specimen on one side the unfortunate student literally bangs her
head into the glass of the next one. A gentle complaint at the
Directors' office concerning the difficulty brought forth the
astonishing information that there was no room at their disposal, but
that in good time better light might be found. As these cases have
been in identically the same place for the past fifteen years, one hopes
that the "good time" may come before one becomes a "spectacled
pantaloon" with no desire to see the wonders of that Palace of Art.

[Illustration: POINT D'ANGLETERRE.

Style Louis XV. Eighteenth Century

(_S.K.M. Collection._)]

This little protest is made in the hope that the "Lords of the
Committee" may possibly have their attention drawn to what amongst the
lace-lovers and students in this country is a "standing grievance."

It is almost impossible, even from the best of photographic
illustrations, to learn all the intricacies of identification. The
photographs clearly show style, but it needs specimens of the actual
lace to show method of working. From the illustrations in this book,
specially selected from the South Kensington Collection, and from
specimens in my own collection, every variety of style may be easily
understood, as they have been particularly selected to show each point
of difference. Commencing with the earliest form of lacework--_i.e._,
"cutworke"--nothing will better show this than the "Sampler" specimen,
which, half way down, shows two rows entirely typical of this kind of
early lace-making--for such it is. A little lower, examples of drawn
threadwork are seen, while the upper portion illustrates satin stitch
patterns, which more properly belong to embroidery.

The ancient collar from the South Kensington Collection, page 149, shows
some of the finest developments of cutwork, when the foundation of linen
was entirely dispensed with. The work is exceedingly fine, the threads
being no coarser, indeed in many cases less so, than the fine linen it
adorns. This is known as Reticella, or "punto in aria." The last name
is applicable to all the laces of Venice which succeeded Reticella, and
means lace literally made out of nothing or without any building
foundation.

The specimen is still of the same class, but where before the design was
s