e
forges a letter in the interests of _Danvers_, might have been made
into something strongly emotional, creepy and Sarah Bernhardtian. This
incident in itself was so striking, and it seemed to be so new--though
I believe that Mr. Potter himself repudiates the notion that there can
be anything new in the drama--that it was almost criminal to slight
it. Nothing was made of it. It almost escaped attention. Instead, we
got a crew of comic opera Scotchmen singing songs, and an absurd
picture of _Robert Burns_, who was injected pell-mell into the
"romance." It was disheartening.

Those who had read the book complained bitterly of the "liberties"
that Mr. Potter had taken with it. Those who had not read the book
complained equally bitterly that Mr. Potter had not taken more of
those "liberties" and made it better worth his while. To me, the book
drama is a conundrum. It always has been, and now that it has nearly
died out, I am still unable to solve it. When you read a book, you
form mental pictures of its characters, and are generally discontented
with those that confront you on the stage. And when you don't read a
book, the play made therefrom lacks lucidity, and you experience the
need of a "key." I should imagine that the dramatization of a novel
killed its sale. Who, after viewing "Nancy Stair" as a play, would
tackle it as a novel? Of course, when a book is dramatized after it
has had a stupendous sale, the author cannot complain. He has no
excuse for protesting. This is a somewhat interesting topic.

Miss Mannering coped with _Nancy_ as she would cope with _Camille_ or
_Juliet_, or any character quite outside of her range of ability. In
light comedy episodes, she is quite acceptable. She is a very pretty,
graceful, distinguished young woman, but her "emotion" is absurd. Her
dramatic fervor is such an exceedingly stereotyped affair that you can
watch it in a detached mood. You can pursue your own thoughts while
she is "fervoring," and she will not interrupt them. Miss Mannering is
emotional in a conventional stage way, and she knows a few tricks. But
the subtlety that comes from experience, the quality that nothing but
a long and arduous apprenticeship can produce, are leagues beyond her
ken. It is a pity, but the "be-stars-quickly" all suffer in this
identical way and there is no remedy.

Robert Loraine as the "hero" gave a far better performance. It was
theatrical, but satisfactory. The late _Robert Burns_ was play