ely yours,

"ANTOINETTE STERLING MACKINLAY."

In "Faust" Violet Vanbrugh "walked on" for the first time.

My girl Edy was an "angel" in the last act. This reminds me that Henry
one Valentine's Day sent me some beautiful flowers with this little
rhyme:

White and red roses,
Sweet and fresh posies:
One bunch, for Edy, _Angel_ of mine--
Big bunch for Nell, my dear Valentine.

[Illustration: ELLEN TERRY AS MARGUERITE IN "FAUST"

FROM A DRAWING BY ERIC PAPE]

Henry Irving has often been attacked for not preferring Robert Louis
Stevenson's "Macaire" to the version which he actually produced in
1883. It would have been hardly more unreasonable to complain of his
producing "Hamlet" in preference to Mr. Gilbert's "Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern." Stevenson's "Macaire" may have all the literary quality
that is claimed for it, although I personally think Stevenson was only
making a delightful idiot of himself in it! Anyhow, it is frankly a
burlesque, a skit, a satire on the real "Macaire." The Lyceum was
_not_ a burlesque house! Why should Henry have done it?

It was funny to see Toole and Henry rehearsing together for "Macaire."
Henry was always _plotting_ to be funny. When Toole, as Jacques Strop,
hid the dinner in his pocket, Henry, after much labour, thought of his
hiding the plate inside his waistcoat. There was much laughter later
on when Macaire, playfully tapping Strop with his stick, cracked the
plate, and the pieces fell out! Toole hadn't to bother about such
subtleties, and Henry's deep-laid plans for getting a laugh must have
seemed funny to dear Toole, who had only to come on and say "Whoop!"
and the audience roared.

Henry's death as Macaire was one of a long list of splendid deaths.
Macaire knows the game is up and makes a rush for the French windows
at the back of the stage. The soldiers on the stage shoot him before
he gets away. Henry did not drop, but turned round, swaggered
impudently down to the table, leaned on it, then suddenly rolled over,
dead.

Henry's production of "Werner" for one matinee was to do some one a
good turn, and when Henry did a good turn he did it magnificently. We
rehearsed the play as carefully as if we were in for a long run.
Beautiful dresses were made for me by my friend Alice Carr, but when
we had given that one matinee they were put away for ever. The play
may be described as gloom, gloom, gloom. It was worse than "The Ir