hat she
gave me sundry hints as to the management of the female toilet, and
offered to get made up for me any dresses that might be required. So I
introduced Leicester and his fellow-heroines to my friend Mrs Moore,
and, by the joint exertions of their own tastes and her experience, they
became possessed of some very tolerable costumes. There was a good deal
of fun going on, I fancy, in fitting and measuring, in her back parlour;
for there was a daughter, or a niece, or something of the sort, who cut
out the dresses with the prettiest hands in the world, as Leicester
declared; but I was too busy with carpenters, painters, and other
assistants, to pay more than a flying visit to the ladies' department.

At last the rehearsal did come on. As Hastings, I had not much in the
way of dress to alter; and, having some engagement in the early part of
the morning, I did not arrive at the theatre until the rest of the
characters were already dressed and ready to begin. Though I had been
consulted upon all manner of points, from the arranging of a curl for
Miss Neville to the colour of Diggory's stockings, and knew the costume
of every individual as well as my own, yet so ludicrous was the effect
of the whole when I entered the room, that I threw myself into the
nearest chair, and laughed myself nearly into convulsions. The figure
which first met my eyes was a little ruddy freshman, who had the part of
the landlord, and who, in his zeal to do honour to our preference, had
dressed the character most elaborately. A pillow, which he could
scarcely see over, puffed out his red waistcoat; and his hair was cut
short, and powdered with such good-will that for weeks afterwards, in
spite of diligent brushing, he looked as grey as the Principal. There he
stood, his legs clothed in grey worsted, retreating far beyond his
little white apron, as if ashamed of their unusual appearance--

"The mother that him bare,
She had not known her son."

Every one, however, had not been so classical in their costume. There
was Sir Charles Marlow in what had been a judge's wig, and Mr Hardcastle
in a barrister's; both sufficiently unlike themselves, at any rate, if
not very correct copies of their originals. Then the women! As for Mrs
Hardcastle, she was perfection. There never was, I believe, a better
representation of the character. It was well dressed, and turned out a
first-rate bit of acting--very far superior to any amateur performance I
e