rrie's play "The
Professor's Love Story." He was delighted with the first act, but when
he had read the rest he did not think the play would do for the Lyceum.
It was the same with many plays which were proposed for us. The ideas
sounded all right, but as a rule the treatment was too thin, and the
play, even if good, on too small a scale for the theater.

One of our playwrights of whom I always expected a great play was Mrs.
Craigie (John Oliver Hobbes). A little one-act play of hers, "Journeys
End in Lovers' Meeting"--in which I first acted with Johnston
Forbes-Robertson and Terriss at a special matinee in 1894--brought about
a friendship between us which lasted until her death. Of her it could
indeed be said with poignant truth, "She should have died hereafter."
Her powers had not nearly reached their limit.

Pearl Craigie had a man's intellect--a woman's wit and apprehension.
"Bright," as the Americans say, she always managed to be even in the
dullest company, and she knew how to be silent at times, to give the
"other fellow" a chance. Her _executive_ ability was extraordinary.
Wonderfully tolerant, she could at the same time not easily forgive any
meanness or injustice that seemed to her deliberate. Hers was a splendid
spirit.

I shall always bless that little play of hers which first brought me
near to so fine a creature. I rather think that I never met any one who
_gave out_ so much as she did. To me, at least, she _gave, gave_ all the
time. I hope she was not exhausted after our long "confabs." _I_ was
most certainly refreshed and replenished.

The first performance of "Journeys End in Lovers' Meeting" she watched
from a private box with the Princess of Wales (our present Queen) and
Henry Irving. She came round afterwards just _burning_ with enthusiasm
and praising me for work which was really not good. She spoiled one for
other women.

Her best play was, I think, "The Ambassador," in which Violet Vanbrugh
(now Mrs. Bourchier) played a pathetic part very beautifully, and made a
great advance in her profession.

There was some idea of Pearl Craigie writing a play for Henry Irving and
me, but it never came to anything. There was a play of hers on the same
subject as "The School for Saints," and another about Guizot.

"_February 11, 1898._

"My very dear Nell,--

"I have an idea for a real four-act comedy (in these matters nothing
daunts me!) founded on a charming little episode in the private lives of
P