he statuesque repose of the rural maiden. A
statute is no doubt a beautiful object, but you do not want to
take it to a dance."--_Daily Paper_.

We shouldn't, but the LORD CHANCELLOR might.

* * * * *

AT THE PLAY.

"THE HOUSE OF PERIL."

The maker of a plot that turns upon murder and drugging in the
neighbourhood of a Continental gambling haunt must be aware that his
work is not going to be brought to the test of common experience, and
he is therefore less likely to be hampered by the laws of probability.
But there are limits even to the British public's gift of credulity.
How far Mrs. BELLOC LOWNDES may have enjoyed special privileges in the
search for her material I cannot say; but for myself I confess that a
modest acquaintance with the atmosphere of European casinos has left
me in absolute ignorance of any such society as that of the hosts
of The House of Peril. Perhaps Mrs. LOWNDES'S book (which I have not
read) may throw light on this dark mystery; but in the play--and the
play's the only thing that concerns us here--I could trace nothing
to indicate to my poor intelligence how it was that two decently-bred
ladies and their escort, a perfectly honest French officer, ever came
to find themselves on terms of easy intercourse with the frowsy old
German couple who lived at the Chalet des Muguets, Lacville, on the
proceeds of robbery.

Any obstacle which these repellent Teutons may have had to overcome in
the ultimate execution of their nefarious designs must have been the
merest child's-play compared with the initial difficulty of inducing
the right kind of victim to penetrate so fifth-rate an interior. One
never even began to get over the inherent improbability of such an
attraction.

And I was the less disposed to take things for granted because of the
rather irritating obscurity that veiled the opening of the Second Act,
in which we are introduced to The House of Peril and are left for a
long time in doubt as to the nature of the place and its relation to
anything that has gone before. I think this must have been the fault
of the adapter, Mr. VACHELL. He seems to have assumed in his audience
a general knowledge of the original story--dangerous confidence, even
in the case of so clever and popular a writer as Mrs. BELLOC LOWNDES.

It certainly was his fault that the end of the play was like nothing
ever seen off the stage. Let me briefly put the scene before you. A