women have so little to do in Shakespeare's plays. There's
Juliet; but one can't play Juliet till one's forty, and then one's too
old to look fourteen. There's Lady Macbeth; but she's got nothing to
do except walk in her sleep and say, 'Out, damned spot!' There were not
actresses in his days, and of course it was no use writing a woman's
part for a boy."

"You should have been born in France," said Faubourg, "Racine's women
are created for you to play."

"Ah! you've got Sarah," said Mrs. Duncan, "you don't want anyone else."

"I think Racine's boring," said Mrs. Lockton, "he's so artificial."

"Oh! don't say that," said Giles, "Racine is the most exquisite of
poets, so sensitive, so acute, and so harmonious."

"I like Rostand better," said Mrs. Lockton.

"Rostand!" exclaimed Miss Tring, in disgust, "he writes such bad
verses--du caoutchouc--he's so vulgar."

"It is true," said Willmott, "he's an amateur. He has never written
professionally for his bread but only for his pleasure."

"But in that sense," said Giles, "God is an amateur."

"I confess," said Peebles, "that I cannot appreciate French poetry.
I can read Rousseau with pleasure, and Bossuet; but I cannot admire
Corneille and Racine."

"Everybody writes plays now," said Faubourg, with a sigh.

"I have never written a play," said Lord Pantry.

"Nor I," said Lockton.

"But nearly everyone at this table has," said Faubourg. "Mrs. Baldwin
has written 'Matilda,' Mr. Giles has written a tragedy called 'Queen
Swaflod,' I wrote a play in my youth, my 'Le Menetrier de Parme';
I'm sure Corporal has written a play. Count Sciarra must have written
several; have you ever written a play?" he said, turning to his
neighbour, the stranger.

"Yes," answered the stranger, "I once wrote a play called 'Hamlet.'"

"You were courageous with such an original before you," said Faubourg,
severely.

"Yes," said the stranger, "the original was very good, but I think," he
added modestly, "that I improved upon it."

"Encore un faiseur de paradoxes!" murmured Faubourg to himself in
disgust.

In the meantime Willmott was giving Professor Morgan the benefit of
his views on Greek art, punctuated with allusions to Tariff Reform and
devolution for the benefit of Blenheim.

Luncheon was over and cigarettes were lighted. Mrs. Bergmann had quite
made up her mind that she had been cheated, and there was only one thing
for which she consoled herself, and that was that she had no