t the time I was deeply hurt at the insinuation,
and it cast a shadow over what would otherwise have been a very happy
time.

It is the way of the public sometimes, to keep all their enthusiasm for
an actress who is doing well in a minor part, and to withhold it from
the actress who is playing the leading part. I don't say for a minute
that Mrs. Bancroft's Peg Woffington in "Masks and Faces" was not
appreciated and applauded, but I know that my Mabel Vane was received
with a warmth out of all proportion to the merits of my performance, and
that this angered some of Mrs. Bancroft's admirers, and made them the
bearers of ill-natured stories. Any unpleasantness that it caused
between us personally was of the briefest duration. It would have been
odd indeed if I had been jealous of her, or she of me. Apart from all
else, I had met with my little bit of success in such a different field,
and she was almost another Madame Vestris in popular esteem.

When I was playing Blanche Hayes in "Ours," I nearly killed Mrs.
Bancroft with the bayonet which it was part of the business of the play
for me to "fool" with. I charged as usual; either she made a mistake and
moved to the right instead of to the left, or _I_ made a mistake.
Anyhow, I wounded her in the arm. She had to wear it in a sling, and I
felt very badly about it, all the more because of the ill-natured
stories of its being no accident.

Miss Marie Tempest is perhaps the actress of the present day who reminds
me a little of what Mrs. Bancroft was at the Prince of Wales's, but
neither nature nor art succeed in producing two actresses exactly alike.
At her best Mrs. Bancroft was unapproachable. I think that the best
thing I ever saw her do was the farewell to the boy in "Sweethearts." It
was exquisite!

In "Masks and Faces" Taylor and Reade had collaborated, and the exact
share of each in the result was left to one's own discernment. I
remember saying to Taylor one night at dinner when Reade was sitting
opposite me, that I wished he (Taylor) would write me a part like that.
"If only I could have an original part like Peg!"

Charles Reade, after fixing me with his amused and _very_ glittering
eye, said across the table: "I have something for your private ear,
Madam, after this repast!" And he came up _with_ the ladies, sat by me,
and, calling me "an artful toad"--a favorite expression of his for
me!--told me that _he_, Charles Reade and no other, had written every
line of