s something rather absurd about the past. For us, who have
fared on, the silhouette of Error is sharp upon the past horizon. As
we look back upon any period, its fashions seem grotesque, its ideals
shallow, for we know how soon those ideals and those fashions were to
perish, and how rightly; nor can we feel a little of the fervour they
did inspire. It is easy to laugh at these Mashers, with their fantastic
raiment and languid lives, or at the strife of the Professional
Beauties. It is easy to laugh at all that ensued when first the mummers
and the stainers of canvas strayed into Mayfair. Yet shall I laugh? For
me the most romantic moment of a pantomime is always when the winged and
wired fairies begin to fade away, and, as they fade, clown and pantaloon
tumble on joppling and grimacing, seen very faintly in that indecisive
twilight. The social condition of 1880 fascinates me in the same way.
Its contrasts fascinate me.

Perhaps, in my study of the period, I may have fallen so deeply beneath
its spell that I have tended, now and again, to overrate its real
import. I lay no claim to the true historical spirit. I fancy it was a
chalk drawing of a girl in a mob-cap, signed 'Frank Miles, 1880,'
that first impelled me to research. To give an accurate and exhaustive
account of that period would need a far less brilliant pen than mine.
But I hope that, by dealing, even so briefly as I have dealt, with its
more strictly sentimental aspects, I may have lightened the task of the
scientific historian. And I look to Professor Gardiner and to the Bishop
of Oxford.

'Cromwell House.' The residence of Lady Freake, a famous hostess of the
day and founder of a brilliant salon, 'where even Royalty was sure of a
welcome. The writer of a recent monograph declares that, 'many a modern
hostess would do well to emulate Lady Freake, not only in her taste for
the Beautiful in Art but also for the Intellectual in Conversation.'

'Fancy Fair.' For a full account of this function, see pp. 102-124 of
the 'Annals of the Albert Hall.'

'Jersey Lily.' A fanciful title bestowed, at this time, upon the
beautiful Mrs. Langtry, who was a native of Jersey Island.

'Manola Valse.' Supposed to have been introduced by Albert Edward,
Prince of Wales, who, having heard it in Vienna, was pleased, for
a while, by its novelty, but soon reverted to the more sprightly
deux-temps.

'Private Views.' This passage, which I found in a contemporary
chronicle, is so