ghter for his not
really sportive dalliance. Fairer than the mummers, it may be, were the
ladies who sat and watched them from the lawn. All of them wore jerseys
and tied-back skirts. Zulu hats shaded their eyes from the sun. Bangles
shimmered upon their wrists. And the gentlemen wore light frock-coats
and light top-hats with black bands. And the aesthetes were in
velveteen, carrying lilies.

Not that Art and Fashion shunned the theatre. They began in 1880 to
affect it as never before. The one invaded Irving's premieres at the
Lyceum. The other sang paeans in praise of the Bancrofts. The French
plays, too, were the feigned delight of all the modish world. Not to
have seen Chaumont in Totot chez Tata was held a solecism. The homely
mesdames and messieurs from the Parisian boards were 'lionised' (how
strangely that phrase rings to modern ears!) in ducal drawing-rooms.
In fact, all the old prejudice of rank was being swept away. Even more
significant than the reception of players was a certain effort, made at
this time, to raise the average of aristocratic loveliness--an effort
that, but a few years before, would have been surely scouted as
quite undignified and outrageous. What the term 'Professional Beauty'
signified, how any lady gained a right to it, we do not and may never
know. It is certain, however, that there were many ladies of tone, upon
whom it was bestowed. They received special attention from the Prince of
Wales, and hostesses would move heaven and earth to have them in their
rooms. Their photographs were on sale in the window of every shop.
Crowds assembled every morning to see them start from Rotten Row.
Preeminent among Professional Beauties were Lady Lonsdale (afterwards
Lady de Grey), Mrs. Wheeler, who always 'appeared in black,' and Mrs.
Corowallis West, who was Amy Robsart in the tableaux at Cromwell House,
when Mrs. Langtry, cette Cleopatre de son siecle appeared also, stepping
across an artificial brook, in the pink kirtle of Effie Deans. We may
doubt whether the movement, represented by these ladies, was quite in
accord with the dignity and elegance that always should mark the best
society. Any effort to make Beauty compulsory robs Beauty of its chief
charm. But, at the same time, I do believe that this movement, so far as
it was informed by a real wish to raise a practical standard of feminine
charm for all classes, does not deserve the strictures that have been
passed upon it by posterity. One of