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Caius Marcius Coriolanus would turn as deaf an ear to me as he did to the passionate appeal of his noble mother; with regard to Cleopatra,' I have no doubt, when I apply the asp to my arm, my death will be hailed with cheers, whether from the fine conception I have of the character of the Queen of Egypt, or the delight of the audience in. not seeing me again would remain a mystery, except in the breasts of those who happened to be present on the occasion."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed all; while Charley added, "As the 'Courtier' says, in that admirable farce, Tom Thumb-Your modesty is a flambeau to your understanding.'

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"As for 'Hermione,' continued, the handsome American girl, "I might succeed in the 'statue' scene, for then my American twang would not be heard. I fancy I could enter into the feeling of Medora,' when she exclaims

Oh! many a night on this lone couch reclined,

My dreaming fear with storms hath wing'd the wind,
And deem'd the breath that faintly fann'd thy sail

The murmuring prelude of the ruder gale;

Though soft, it seem'd the low, prophetic dirge,
That mourn'd thee floating on the savage surge;
Still would I rise to rouse the beacon fire,
Lest spies less true should let the blaze expire,
And many a restless hour outwatch'd each star,
And morning came-and still thou wert afar."

The feeling with which the above lines were uttered called forth a burst of applause.

"Nor do I object to the 'Brigand's Wife,'" she proceeded, "or the Spanish 'Maid of Saragoza'; but I am quite ashamed of myself for dwelling so long on the offensive pronoun I."

After same discussion a tableau from the Corsair was arranged, to take place on some future evening, in which Chesterford volunteered to represent "Conrad" welcoming

"Medora " after his return from a lawless cruise.

"You'll look the part of Medora' to perfection," said Chesterford.

"Yes," interrupted Emily; "she wasn't behind the doors when beauty was given

out."

"Do not forget," continued Charley;

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you have to realise that beautiful description of our parting

He dared not raise to his that deep blue eye
Which downcast droop'd in tearless agony,
Her long fair hair lay floating o'er his arms,
In all the wildness of dishevell'd charms."

"If you go on in that strain," said Kitty, "I shall be awfully riled; remember, praise to the face is open disgrace."

"I assure you, Miss Boken," pursued Chesterford, "that I never say what I do not think."

"Very well," said Kitty. "I hate what Sam Slick calls soft sawdor,' and I calculate your Dean Swift was right when he wrote: Flattery is the worst and falsest way of showing your esteem.' I dare say, Mr. Chesterford, you believe all the stories, or Americanisms, as they are called, which are copied into your papers."

"Not always," responded Charley; "for instance, I last week read the following, and at once pronounced it to be an invention

"Mr. Jones felodeceed this morning successfully. He Hymeneated three years ago, and he will be sepulchred to-morrow."

"You are right," responded Kitty, and it is a pity that your countrymen are not all as sensible and liberal as you are."

Chesterford was delighted with this compliment, and from that moment struck up a friendship with the fair Kitty.

The Corsair tableau never did come off, for when the subject was mentioned to Mrs. Clarendon a decided veto was put upon it.

In due course of time the theatre was erected, the scenery arranged, the dresses prepared, and rehearsals called; then occurred the various jealousies, frettings, clashing vanities, and petty quarrels which usually occur between performers of all classes, whether professional or amateurs.

"Hatred," (Miss Clarendon) was very severe upon Lady Albert for not having assisted her in getting up tableaux; "Malice" (Miss Susan Clarendon) was furious at her

drama being rejected, and never forgave Miss Clifford for taking the part of "Juliet," she being herself ambitious to represent Capulet's ill-fated daughter to the "Romeo" of her Irish admirer, to whom she offered the part. An O'Montagu, with a Tipperary brogue, would have been a novelty rarely seen on the stage. "Uncharitableness" (Miss Matilda Clarendon) took an irreconcilable dislike to Lord Albert for not having selected scenes from Semiramide, Norma, and Il Tro

vatore.

Sophia Clifford never in the slightest degree murmured, being too happy even in the mimic scene to listen to the protestations of love from the impassioned "Romeo"; Lady Albert was equally pleased with her part, which she had already acted with the greatest

success.

The first rehearsal without books was called for eleven o'clock, and, punctually at that hour, Lord Albert Wittingham found himself alone in his glory. Seated on the stage, close to the proscenium, a small table