ruth they really had. Lord Alison sat like one petrified as the music ebbed and flowed, but only Giovanni noted that he did not join in the applause tha

ably invades the scene of a recent merry-making spread through the roo

e yourself to hear a story,"

rner of the very sofa he had occupied

had captivated him, and that he feared to return lest his uncle, Lord Alison, should disinherit him. As time went on, Arthur was recognised as the next-of-kin, and on succeeding to his father's property had quitted Scotch law and come to Lon

but the fair face of Hester Trenoweth came between them. Then, when the dread of the missing document was removed, he persuaded himself to sacrifice conscience to passion. His resolution was increased ten-fold by the knowledge that Lady Hester loved Giovanni. Arthur's keen eye had detected her secret. He almost hated them both when the truth became plain to him. "Boy," he exclaimed, at length, "I

drove him to a demonstration

E YOU?

u've erred, you've more than atoned for your error, which has done me no great harm, and you shall never leave me, never." The

rue state of things between Hester and Giovanni, and insisted on his consenting to their wedding, he seemed infinitely relieved. He su

, "I've pledged my word

her. "Giovanni is Lord Alison. T

fter the first shock, smiled benignant acquiescence, and said, "To think of its being all thro

too, too kind to us," He

ziel wa

GS AT

orrison and

-ZAG DA

the family, presenting the appearance of a job-lot of odds and ends at the tail of an auctioneer's catalogue. Not only is the family of a job-lot nature, but each individual seems a sort of haphazard assemblage of odd parts made up together to save wasting the pieces; for some have tremendous tails, and som

ERE

IC

VE

SE

DUA

s the sloth. The objectionably moral and energetic class of philosopher is always ready to enlist the ant, the bee, and similarly absurdly busy creatures as practical sermons on his side; and that the indolent philosopher has never retaliated with the sloth is due merely to the fact that he is indolent, practically as well as theoretically.

NOT A

then that is all a part of his system, since it is plain that his greatest state of activity is merely one of suspended animation. It is only when he is in a state of suspense that the sloth is really happy, and this is only one aspect of the topsy-turviness of his entire nature. Hanging horizontally, head and tail downw

N! I

ed, rascally mendicant-a dirty ruffian whose vocation can be nothing more laborious than extorting coppers on pretence of sweeping a crossing. A little more stirring, and he w

TY RU

If by any chance he finds himself on the ceiling (which, as I have said, is his word for floor), he can only hook his claws wherever he sees a hole, and drag himself. He i

OSED

o expect. Mild and placable, as well as rather bashful, it has somewhat the character of a beplated and armed theatrical super, who plays the flute and teaches in a Sunday-school when off duty. It is suscept

SUP

LLY P

t open his shell for anything-figuratively as well as literally speaking. If a raging mad jaguar prances up to an armadillo, the armadillo curls up quietly with an expression that says: "Really, you excite yourself overmuch; I suppose you want to gnaw me. If you expect to eat me, after your length of experience, you must be-well, rather a fool, if I may say so. I shall go to sleep," which he does, whil

uckles in a manner so extremely suggestive of a lecture that you instinctively look for the customary carafe and glass, and feel perplexed at their absence. Regardless of this disadvantage, Sukey will turn this way and that, and thump alternately with one fist and the other, and even, in the excitement of her eloquence, bounce bodily upon the ledge before her, as one has heard of

SN

SING PR

GN

arge nose of a sort is often a noble feature of itself; but a nose like this!... Sukey's extravagance in nose is paid for by a scarcity of mouth. Her small mouth may be a loveliness in itself, but it will never allow Sukey a sneer or a smile-let al

EXPE

LA

awn on one. See her once or twice only, and she may only exhibit a mere foot or so of it-possibly only eight or ten inches. Another time she will let out a foot or eighteen inches more, and you are rather surprised; still, your belief is unshaken that there is another end to that tongue somewhere. But when, some time later, she casually releases another yard or two, beyond the few feet wherewith you are familiar, with an a

EVER

esting insects about with them, in large quantities. When one remembers how comparatively unfashionable this practice is, one can understand that Sukey largely lives the life of a disappointed creature. By way of a great feast, she will sometimes be given a mouse; and she fishes perseveringly through such odd cracks and holes as she may fi

GGES

inhabitant of the moon. He looks the sort of animal one would invent in a nightmare; his comparatively sober colours and his bush

GARDE

h, because he never has any teeth at all. Really the ant-eater scarcely seems a respectable character considered altogether. An animal with more than a foot of slender nose, expressly used for poking into other people'

VERY

k it is. But none of the Dasypid? are clever-not one. They are all in the lowest form of the mammalian school, and whenever one is not at the bottom of the fo

OWEST

s' Ma

d the advisability of an immediate application of a small bottle of glycerine. All well and good. But some of our actors are beginning to play pranks with their faces, and are forgetting that they possess a canvas which needs as delicate touching with the colours as that on the easel of a Royal Academician. There is a positive danger of "the Villain at the Vic" making a successful re-appearance again-that estimable individual whose corkscrew curls were as black as

LAIN AT

equally in keeping with his head-gear. He burnt a cork for making moustaches and eyebrows, he utilized the white-washed walls for powder, and scraped the red-brick flooring with his pocket-knife to gain a little colour for his cheeks. And even then he used to wonder how it was he could never get his face clean! Though it is to be hoped that no modern actor will ever have to stoop so low as the floor

RINKLES SPO

e gallery that it would be as well if some actors were to let the audience see their faces for

ened-out forked lightning; there is no need to lay down a new line on your countenance such as a debilitated luggage train would scorn. The effect, from the

NNY COU

a Joey Grimaldi would shudder at, dresses as no countryman ever dressed, and wears a huge sunflower from his back garden. Your old stage hand, when called upon to play a countryman, will tell you that there is nothing to equal a level colouring all over the face, with a little rouge on the cheeks, and the immediate nei

OURIN

UT

y amusing Father Pelican in "Falka." But there is considerable risk in resorting to another course which has of late become popular. Figs are inserted in the mouth on either side. The effect may be all right, but, I repeat, the risk is great. In a pantomime recently played the audience were considerably surprised to see the fat boy's cheeks suddenly

S IN A G

with it is very necessary. The camel's hair brush has been superseded by lining pencils, which can be obtained in any colour. They possess the great advantage-being made of grease-of giving a wrinkle that will not wash off with perspiration. The "wa

ICE

play the juvenile part in a light comedy, has to be loved by the nice-looking young man

ING' HI

ove has eyes," and she immediatel

ures. But the "juvenile" lady does not stop at black-eyeing. The lips have to be made to look kissable, so they are red

ELY BLAC

ined to a nicety; his eyebrows gummed on most artistically; the wrinkles are wonderfully, but not fearfully, made. A good figure-head! But his walk is that of a "two-year-o

ON YOUNG S

face it is intended to decorate, and stuck on with spirit gum, or they can be made out of crêpe hair-a plaited, imitation hair-which, in deft fingers, ma

TO GROW A MOUS

W. Royce, and it was during the burlesque days of Edward Terry and Nelly Farren. Royce's moustache came off; he was supposed

really must

s the carri

wig joined to the forehead with grease paint, the actor proceeds to put on his nose, again finding the spirit gum handy. Such stage noses are invariably made of wool, coloured to suit the complexion. The beard-w

FACTURED

ities at Different

MACK

n 1

E

by P. Thompso

e

by P. Thompso

ENT

Window & Grove

came to London to study the violin under M. Sainton. The same year he was elected King's Scholar at the Royal Academy of Music. The composition which made him famous was his opera, "Colomba," based upon Mérimée's celebrated story. This was produced with great success by the Carl Rosa Company at Dru

OP OF LI

n 1

E

Crayon

E

a Dra

E

by Bayard & B

ENT

y H. J. Whitlo

on, and later on to Christ Church, Oxford, where he graduated B.A. He was ordained in 1864, his first curacy being at Handsworth, Birmingham.

IK I

n 1

E

a P

E

Budtz, Muller &

ENT

by Jos. Alb

junction with others, he founded a literary journal, in the columns of which appeared his first satire, "Nora et Dukkehjem." Through the influence of Ole Bull, the violinist, he became director of the theatre at Bergen, and in 1857 went to Christiania, where several of his plays were produced with great success. For some time he lived in Rome, and in 1866 obtained from the Storthing a pension. His best known works

BUR

E

a Dra

E

inting by

E

Photo

ENT

by Gunn & St

of great capacity, boundless energy, and immense force of character. Her recent book, "The Life of Sir Richard Burton," has brought her name prominently before the public. No one could have executed this work better than she wh

RE DUMA

n 1

E

a Dra

E

Photo

ENT

o by Eug. P

. Dumas has enjoyed the satisfaction of finding himself the founder of a new school: for imitators rapidly succeeded without, however, being able to disturb his supremacy in this new line of art. He has the power of constructing a telling story, and his dialogue is well turned and pointed, displaying much shrewd observation of character. A comedy from his pen, entitled "Les Idées de Madame Aubray," was produced at Paris early in 1867. His "Visite de Noces" and "La Princesse Georges" were brought out at the

m the Diary

rs of "The M

N YEARS'

what severe typhoid fever, but the interest lies in the succeeding stages, when complete recovery seems to have taken place. I have noticed this remarkable illness

husband, in consultation with the family doctor, I could not help noticing the intensely anxious expression of her face, and how her lips moved silently a

NSULTA

of age, tall, and rather gaunt in appearance, with deep-set grey eyes, and a big, massive brow. I have often noticed his peculiar style of face and head as belonging to the legal profession. I could quite believe that

ellent recovery without hitch or relapse. Under these circumstances his case h

o see a sick patient, when my servant informed me tha

m not in the habit of seeing p

. She says she will wait your convenience: but, whateve

r, and find out what she wa

d my consulting-room. A slight, girlish figure was seated partly with her back to me. She sprang

a blessed relief. I have waited for you here because I want

had recovered perfectly. He said he had ordered him for a month to th

ancy for Dover, and thought of going there. I had even written about lodgings, when my husband suddenly told me that he did not wish to go to the seaside, and would prefer spending a fortnight amongst his old haunts at Cambridge. We went there. We-we were very happy. I left the children at home. It seemed something

face, excessively pale before, now turned almost ghastly. She had s

stounding intelligence that Mr. Mainwaring had packed up all his belong

rown weary of his own society, was anxious about our little Nancy, and had hurried home. My

she said. 'Perhaps you think yo

? I will send a telegram at once and find out. If Mr. Ma

silent for a minute,

Mr. Mainwaring behaved in a very si

s. I felt my heart beginning to sink. I followed her into the little sitting-room whe

thout a moment

d. 'I brought up breakfast as usual. Mr. Mainw

y the express. I shall pack my thi

oom to prepare it, wh

have got into the room?'

ngs do you

aid, very crossly. 'That work

ing at him, 'those things

in the face and then

he said; 'I dislike

ed a cab, and gone off with his luggage. He left all your things behind him, madam. Mr. Mainwaring was collected and qu

round the room for confirmation of her words. Yes, my husband and all his belongings had vanished, but my work-basket, my new hat, my m

clothes I had left behind me, flung

THEM

ind almost impossible to describe, my landla

letter. I have just found it, stamped and directed as you see, on the d

he college (Trinity) where he had taken his degree. I did not hesitate to open it. Here it is, Dr. H

note as she spoke. It cont

nity of thanking you for your kindness to me during the whole of my University career. I leave Cambridge by an early train this

s sin

Mainw

and then returned it wi

it and post it?" I

me almost i

d tutor, has been dead for many years. My husband felt his death keenly when it occurred. He has many times told me o

letter will give us a very important clue to our future acti

answer, which came within an hour and a half. My husband had not returned to Stanley Villa. I then took the next train to town, and went back to Croydon on the chance o

greater part of our interview. "Your story is a very strange one," I continued, "and I will give it and you my best attention in a

I was leaving the house, I told my servant to take a tray with wine and other refreshments into the consulting-room. Then I went a few doors off to see a brother physician. I told him I had a peculia

ne or two of these biscuits. You will be able to think much better and, consequently, t

She took it in her small, trembling hand and raised it

o better no

ED IT TO

"you have not told me what you think of my story. What possible re

an exceptionally serious attack. His apparently rapid recovery may have induced him to do more than he really had strength to undertake. If this were so, many strange symptoms might exhibit themselves. I can tell you more particulars

thirty

gree at Cambrid

e was a Trinity man, and loved his college with an enthusiasm I have seen in few. I never saw anyone happier than he was

f the men of his t

tracted people, but some had gone abroad and several had died. There was a Mr. Leigh in particular. He had been much attached to him in the old days.

hear of Lei

y affected for the time, and talked of him to me all the evening. He told

seemed depressed

ust for

usband and Mr. L

ing thought

" she said. "He mentioned that fact also when h

d Mr. Mainwaring and Mr. Leig

Mr. Leigh arranged to meet him at Dover. He failed to keep his first appointm

not so much the fact of Mainwaring's brain having gone wrong as the strange form his aberration seemed to have taken. It

t I asked Mrs. Mainwaring

r in your husband the last eveni

him a letter, which cheered him a good deal. It was from a solicitor in large practice, offering him the brief of a very important case which was to come on in the criminal courts. Edward was highly delighted at the thought of this work, which meant large fees, badly needed by us just at present. Early the next morning the post brought u

ised when you d

t of man who always keeps

Mainwaring; and first, how

ith a faint blush on her white face

ened to meet th

ev

r speak of him to you

e is, as a rule, a very busy man-mu

o know any of his

N

way connected with th

t least, three years after

do not think I have anyt

nd allow my unhappy husband to roam the country. He must be found, an

you tell me of your husband I feel inclined to think-of course, I may be wrong-b

you poss

of probability that he may be at Dover wait

s if she thought I, too, had taken leave of my

h you to Dover," I said.

bious and ter

of time," she sa

o, he strained a weakened frame. The brain forms the highest part of that frame, Mrs. Mainwaring, the highest and also the most easily put out of order. Your husband exerted his body too much, and excited hi

killed on an Alpine expedition. The marvellous thing was how the news never reached my husband before

nwaring's case is this. He has forgotten the recent years of his life and has gone back again to his old college days. His letter to the Don of Trinity College who has so long been dead confirms this theory. His strange conduct with reg

come with you,

began to draw

ght had faded into night when I assisted Mrs. Mainwaring into a

S. MAINWARING

scarcely uttered a word. She had drawn her veil over her face and sat huddled up in a corner of the carriage, as if she we

r, she drew up her veil

you mea

idea what your husband's habits were ten years ago? Was he extravagant or caref

He is not careful of money now, and I am s

im at the Lord Warden Hotel, which is, of course, the best in the town.

ed, in a submissive, h

ire her with any faith in the success of my mission. She was evidently oppressed with the fear

g to the hotel, s

of his mind, we are ruined

at," I replied. "Have

as a barrister. But there is no profession in the world which requires greater

n money for a time, have you no re

ook he

and with difficulty makes both ends meet. It would be impossible to expect assistance from him." She sighed heavily as she spoke. Then she continued, with a

he best. The first thing is to find your husband. After

done?" she asked, in

see," I

inquiries. The name of Mainwari

o Mrs. Mainwaring; "will you please

into a minute and f

light stoop," repeated the manager after

not always,"

s on whenever he wants to ask a

aring turn

d, "then he is here! Dr.

asked furthe

ally one of the visitors before I disturb any of them. The hour is late too, close on eleven o'clock, and a g

"although he is not in reality nearly so old.

waiters and spoke a few words

oversight it has not been entered in the visitors' book. The hotel is very full this evening. The gentleman who answers to yo

ly," she

them fetched, and you can look at them. Will you have the goodness

nwaring's medical adviser. He motioned us to chairs, and in

side the door of No. 39," he said

well-shaped foot. Mrs. Mainwaring rushed forward, ga

" she exclaimed. "Yes, he is here. Tha

time," exclaimed a waiter who had now come upon the

will go to him without being announced

was locked from within, but our summons was immediately answered by the approach of a manly ste

deavoured to throw her arms round his neck. He s

darkening with anger, "to what I am indebted

ward?" sobbed the poor

undisguised astonishment and even disgust. "I have not the pleasure

U KNOW ME

I am Nancy's mother-pretty Nancy, with her curling hair; you know how fond you are of Nancy. Don't you remember Nancy, and Bob, and baby

this moment. The intensity of her passion now seemed to transform her. She flung aside

e eyes and trembled round the lips of this poor young woman. She was so absorbed in trying to get her husband to reco

"it is impossible that you can have forgotten me. I

, I must have married you when I was a boy. I had not left school six years ago. I am only twenty-th

don't you know me?"

er husband's hands tried to raise it to her lips. Her manner, her words, her attitude,

t of me. I must ask you, madam, to leave my room immediately. I do not even know your name. I never saw you before.

ung her to the quick. She approached the door, but before she could reach it she

pectable man," said Mainwaring. "Will you favour

r. I attended you as a consulting ph

laimed. "I never had a day o

tter leave him for the present," I s

other word Mainwaring

before. This is a scheme to ruin the character of an honourable man. But I shall take immediate care to nip it in the bud. Is that a chambermaid in the passage

ying in our direction. Doubtless the chambermaid who had disappeared on Mainwaring's errand had already spread the

exclaimed Mainwaring, whose face w

and into my voice as I possibly could. "I presume you do not wish the

later the manager's knock was heard. I opened the door to him. He came

n to speak in a

deavoured to perpetrate a most disgraceful hoax upon me. This lady, whom I never saw before, has had the audacity to claim me as her husband. I wish you to

ms of strong excitement, must have appeared perfectly sane to an ordinary observer.

I said to the manager. "I will give

inwaring. She put her hand into mi

he room Mainwaring sh

nager of the hotel. "He must be watched, and on no accou

I can allow any pressure to be put on the gentleman who occupies No. 39. This is a very queer story, and Mr. Mainwaring sh

room and let me explain

an di

t door. I am a medical man, and you cannot trifle with my requests with impun

in a more civil tone, "I'll tell the ni

a moment, but q

he goodness to explain matters a little, f

QUEER

eman in No. 39 has just recovered from a severe attack of typhoid fever. Until this morning he was apparently on the road to recovery. A fortnight ago he went with his wife to Cambridge to pay a short visit. They left their children at Croydon. Yesterday morning Mrs. Mainwari

te early to-day and asked for a good bedroom, which he said he might want for

l you the name of the

said that Mr. Leigh might arrive at any moment, and that

ame Mrs. Mainwaring broke the silenc

h is dead,"

ager. "Was it sudden, madam? Doe

sband stayed at this hotel and waited for Walter Leigh to join him. He had to wait here for twen

of the hotel of ten

ainly

bstantiate the truth of this lady's words. Have you any idea, Mrs. Mainw

e replied. "They took their degrees toget

r. He seemed much impressed now, and his ma

immediately and examin

ut ten minutes wit

ok of ten years back, and there were the two names entered in the book as plain as you please: Edward Mainwaring, W

ed, promptly. "He must be carefully watched during the night. Can y

. Mrs. Mainwaring was conducted to a room on the next floor and I

ght, which was spent by me in

her face showed me through what terrible suffering she had been passing. I

that he is waiting for his friend, Mr. Leigh, to join him at this hotel. Whether he will ever recover the ten years which he has lost is impossible at the present moment to say. What I should advise now is this: Let someone whom Mr. Mainwaring knew intimately ten years ago come and see him, and tell him as simply and as forcibly as possible what

father," she r

said that his father was a clergyman-better and better-he is probably an excellent

g her eyes, "that my father-in-law's rectory is not

and I will telegraph

writing my telegram in the hall of the hotel when Mainwaring came downstairs. He looked full at his wife and me, but did not vouc

an's eyes were full of tears and she was trembling exce

ched him anxiously while I ate. He had called for a daily paper and began to read it. I watched his face and saw that the contents of the paper puzzled him

for me to catch the next train to London. I told Mrs. Mainwaring what had occurred, expressed great regret at being forced to leave her under such trying circumstances, assured her that I did not anticipate any fresh development of Mainwaring's illness, begged

ain that day. In the evening I received a telegram from Mrs. Mainwaring to say that her father-in-law had arrived

OF THE PAPER

ing day for my visit to Dover, and then tried t

to start on my journey, when my servant brought me a card. I t

ntleman?" I aske

m into the consu

ay that I was

id he was sure when you saw his ca

person is h

tall gentleman, with a slight stoop. When

ange new development of Mainwaring's disease ha

patient was standing by one of the windows, but whe

or my rude behaviour towards you last night. Under t

nnot tell you with what inexpressible relief I see that you have alr

ile, "for what? I have not recovered my memory. At the pres

said, much puzzled in

Walter Leigh. This is exactly how matters appear to me at the present moment. With regard to my past, I can give you chapter and verse for almost every event which has occurred to me since I was a young child. My boyhood, my school days, in especial my recent life at Cambridge, are accurately remembered by me to the smallest detail. That, as far as I can tell, is my history. I am a young man with bright prospects just beginning life. I am told, however, by one whose word I cannot doubt, that I have a further history of grave importance. I am married-I have a wife and three children. I have a house at Croydon, where I have lived for over six years. I am a common-law barrister, and am rising in my profession. I have just recovered f

t there is no doubt that something has gone

ile I was speaking; now he spra

It is absolutely true that my youth is over. As far as I am aware I never spent it. I never used it, but it is gone. I have a wife whom I do not love.

G SANK INT

ofessional man. I do not remember my wife. I should not recognise my own children; and what is perhaps worst of all, from a practical point of view, I have completely lost all knowledge of my profession-I cannot therefore earn a single penny for the support of my family. I

I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have come to me as you have done. If you had chosen to dou

" repeated Mainwaring. "What is your

e cells they are imprinted on them like the impressions made by the needle on the cylinder of the phonograph. Even years afterwards the same series of events or sounds are thus reproduced. You have lost your cylinder for ten years. What I have to do is to try by some

aring. "My mind is naturally much disturbed and upset, b

ly?" I replied, with eagerness. "Pray tell me exactly wha

bsolutely strong and well. I feel twenty-three." He sighed heavily as he spoke, and sinking into a chair,

n. Thanks to the valuable researches of eminent men who have made the localization of cerebral functions t

forward in his chair and gazing at

some of the highest cerebral centres are closely connected with the centres of the nerves of that limb. I can picture to myself-though, of course, I may be wrong-

ng. "You cannot hesitate. You will not lose a moment

Dr. Oliphant, the great br

prang again

u can give me relief without seeking for further assistance. Do you think I value life under existing circumstances? Not that!" He flipped some imaginary substance away from him as he spoke with his finger and thumb. "I put myself absolut

e a brave man; I do not, therefore, hesitate to tell you that the operation is of a very serious natu

ght," retorted Mainwaring. "I will accept the

like to consult Dr.

I insist on the operation being performed

He was a fine fellow. Intelligence, resolve, endurance, were

e also abundantly proved that you have a good constitution. With extreme care your life may not be even endangered. In that case you will be, at the worst, only as you are now. At the best you will be yourself once again. If what I think is the case, I can, by the operation which I

leave myself in your hands. H

our wife and

urn with me n

the next train to Dover. Tell your father and wife what you have resolved to do. I will ta

wo later Main

l consequences. I knew this possibility; nevertheless, I scarcely feared that it would arise. I had explained everything clearly to Mai

h I lived. I also engaged an excellent surgical nurse, in whom I could place perfect conf

d taken for them, late that evening. They sent me a message at once t

eyes disturbed and restless. She came impulsively to

E OF MY HANDS I

he exclaimed, "and I am willing-I am abundantl

looked from her to her father-i

gesture. "I think you know some special friends of mine. I may say that I place abs

vely from one fa

lieve Mr. Mainwaring, without your mutual sanction. I must tell you plainly, however, that although I am will

d may die?" said the

er full in

possibilit

incts-my instinct tells me that you will save my husband, and in short give him back to me as he was before. At the worst, even at the worst--" here she turned

ddenly gave way,

ts to perform the operation to-morrow morning. A clever surgeon, whom I know well, will assist me, and an excellent trained n

d her eyes b

does not wish to see you again until t

ords, and soon afte

ived at Queen Anne's Street. We were shown at once to the room where my patient waited for me. He was sitting

eerful smile, "and here am I, and there is a Providence o

so much relieved to find that neit

all put you right," I said, in a tone

itting-room, where Mainwaring's father and

ed when we must prove whether I have done anything for him or not. Will you have the courage to come into the room with me, Mrs.

rise she s

ible. Failure means too much agony. I c

g will know his father. His knowledge of you is the test wh

he hand a beautiful little girl of five years of age. She had a wealth of re

nt for her this morning. When my husband awakens, take her into th

ell," I

me," I said. The child looked at me with her grave eyes-she was perfectly

's arms encircled my neck. My heart was beating quick

r ill?" s

ere open. I put the

eak to him

up to

she repeated, in a

" he said, sm

hands. The child caught it

me, my sweet Nan," he

ainwaring had got

ated In

-MR. EDW

oul are as much in a simple little ballad as in an operatic selection. The public have felt this, and have not been slow in letting it be known. He is, in many ways, a remarkable man. If there is anyone who is prone to be spoiled by a community ever ready to pamper a popular individual, it is a tenor. But from what I have seen-and my opportunities have been peculiar ones-of Mr. Edward Lloyd, he impressed me as being a man who sets his face against all flattery, no matter how honestly it ma

DWARD

oto by El

, and flowers are working out their own notions of decorative art everywhere. Here the walls are given up to a magnificent collection of hunting pictures. The dining-room has many exquisite bronzes, and passing by an old grandfather's clock in the hall-picked up in a Devonshire cottage one holiday time, a

ively converted into a holiday. The two youngest boys, Ramon Richard and Cecil Edward, had a day's leave from Sidcup College. Mr. Edward Turner Lloyd, the eldest son, and a professor at the Royal Academy of Music, was there. Miss Mary Louisa Lloyd

NG ROOM-

oto by El

g up their heads above the soil, and the trio of tennis-courts looked in perfect condition. Mr. Lloyd and all the members of his family are enthusiastic tennis players, and

ING ROOM

to by Elli

Persian cat, who a minute ago had been engaged in chasing an innocent sparrow, was called into requisition to face the camera as being an important representative

owers of speech. Then, as we stayed for a moment in the conservatory-where, in the midst of the palms and ferns, a fine statuette of "A Dancing Girl," by J. Lawler, who sculptured one of the sides of the Albert Memorial, stands in a conspicuous po

SEN

to by Elli

engraving-after Millais, Gainsborough, and Burton Barber; whilst the staircase leading to Mr. Lloyd's own particular sanctu

tained glass window erected to the memory of the great tenor's mother at the Ladies' College, Cheltenham. The dining-room looks out on a great expanse of

s apartment are full of the choicest of Dresden china and enamelled silver ware, and a prominent position is given to a Russian silver cigarette case inscribed: "Presented by Hi

ny of his house at Brighton, just before he died. When we remember Mr. Lloyd's profession, one may be permitted to refer to the music-room as being the most used apartment in Hassendean. It is really a magnificent room, which the

morning for two or three months. I first give my attention to the notes, then study the real meaning of the words. You then begin to see the beauty of the work and gain a knowledge of the composer's id

NCE-HALL-

oto by El

ter Millais, Alma Tadema, Sir Frederick Leighton, Luke Fildes, Orchardson, Leader, and Rosa Bonheur. The blue china, which

DY-HASS

oto by El

layed, and then the voice of Miss Lloyd was heard in all its girlish sweetness. The little canary remained silent until the finish of the song, then it burst out again; once more came a chord from the piano-a familiar chord-"Good-bye, Sweetheart, Good-bye," and I listened to the magnificent voice of our great tenor. He probably never sang with greater expression or intenser feeling than he did that afternoon at Has

G-ROOM-HA

oto by El

s brother and sister artists, though it be at his own expense. When he speaks of others he endeavours to impress upon you that he means it; when he must needs speak of himself he does so with a merry laugh and hurries up to get it over. His heart is perfectly open. He is not a "coddled up" individual; he never did and never will believe in it. He never muf

NG-ROOM-H

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father's talent. She was a student at the Royal Academy of Music, and gained the King's Scholarship for her pianoforte playing at the age of seventeen. My father was Richard Lloyd, whose good tenor voice gained for him a vicar choral-ship in Westminster Abbey. I have a vivid recollection of him, for I think I was his pet child; I know that I had all I wanted. I was only five when he died, and my mother, with

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at her little seven-year-old son had joined Westminster Abbey as a chorister under James Turle, the Abbey organist, who had not been slow in recognising the great gift of a beautiful voice which had been bestowed upon the youth.

ee or four guineas for the week's singing at the Handel Festival at the Crystal Palace, but when I became one of the chosen four boys, Mr. Turle, who had the musical arrangements associated with big City dinners, frequently selected me to sing at a guinea and sometimes two guineas a night at the banquets given by such City companies as the Ironmongers', Merchant Taylors', Goldsmiths', Vintners', etc., where boys in those days always sang the soprano parts in the glees

bite the apple, Mr

when he was in office as canon, he used to preach for an hour, and sometimes longer. It was the privilege of a senior boy to repair to his house in the cloisters, and, togeth

OYD'S

a Pai

St. Paul's, and we frequently met at the rooms of the old Madrigal Society, in Lyle Street-let to them by the Royal Society of Musicians-where, for our singing, we were rewarded with a glass of port, a buttered biscuit, and two shillings. The two shillings were invariably spent before I got home. I also met Sir Arth

d the important historical fact that

inster, well educated in the music of the great Church writers. He was on enviably familiar terms with such old masters as Gibbons, Blow, Boyce, and Purcell, a foundation for all that was to follow after. At his mother's suggestion he learnt the violin, and she, who herself had stu

anything particular. But I was always endeavouring to improve myself. When I was twenty-one, as luck would have it, my uncle, Dr. John Larkin Hopkins, organist of Trinity College, Cambridge, came on a v

ince we part

t summer ti

here three months they thought there ought to be a trial for the post. There were then two tenor vacancies, as Mr. Kerr Gedge was leaving to fill an important position in London. How well I remember the morning of the trial. The trial was fixed for ten o'clock. However, I got up at four, as I was too excited to sleep, told the landlady to have a thick steak ready for me at eight, and went for a lon

OYD'S

to by W. &

r hearts,' from 'Elijah,' and read som

although Mrs. Lloyd is not a musician, from that day to this she has influenced my life. It was her wish that I should not sing in opera. And I have never regretted not doing so. Indeed, I have only made one appearance in costume in my life-it was at a private house at Hampstead. Here is a portra

er on Carl Rosa tried his utmost to induce him to sing in "Tannhauser," when the impresario was producing this work at Her Majesty's Theatre, saying at the same time,

Wells Street, Mr. Barnby (now Sir Joseph Barnby) being the choir-master and organist, a

2,000 people present. It did me a lot of good. I was very nervous, and my nervousness gave birth to feeling. A cold singer is no good! Dr. Wesley conducted this festival. There are many capital stories told about him. He w

he said. 'My n

er, 'what your name is; you ca

you take in my name to your

n the organ. A very fine instrument was in the hall, and the doctor, nothing loth, sat down and played for half an hour. The music over, Wesley returned to his fishing, fished to sundown, and then went home. The next day the owner of the organ and the lake was surprised to

NLY APPEARANC

in his thoughts of fishing that he kept on beating time after the overture w

ned Wesley. 'I've go

thy doctor had held his baton still in the act of catching a fish, a

" by Sullivan; Parry's "Judith"; Mackenzie's "Rose of Sharon" and "The Dream of Jubal"; Cowen's "Rose Maiden" and "The Water Lily"; Stanford's "Maeldune," and Sullivan's "Golden Legend," and amongst foreign, Rubinstein's "Paradise Lost" and Dvoràk's "Spectre's Bride." He created

was presented to the

artists engaged by Sir Joseph, whom, together with Sir Charles Hallé, Mr. Lloyd regards as having done as much for music as any two artists in England. He has been to America on no fewer than fou

ir place in the esteem of the public against the lighter and les

raise' can never die: they are the support and the backbone of the festivals. Such works are so great and so magnificent that they are as fresh to the pe

and revered, go into the Black Country, on the occasion of a big musical gathering, and watch the masses come in with their music scores under their arms. I have seen the galleries crowded with

severe upsets as these have never deterred him from proceeding in the even tenor of his ways. He positively snaps his fingers at fogs, and has sung in

o thick that in thin shoes and a dress suit he had to take a lamp from his carriage, and whilst his coachman led the horse, he had to lig

ted with songs, and it may be a consolation to budding composers to know that the thoughtful tenor always returns unaccepted scores when stamps are inclosed. He admits to one personal mishap with his music when singing Blumenthal's bea

ere we were to sing in the evening. Feeling very tired, I lay down after dinner for a rest before the concert; Christian did the same. We both fell fast asleep. We were to open the concert at eight o'clock in the duet "Love and War." At five minutes past eight, a man came rushing in to say the audi

put his hand on young Ramon's head and said, good-naturedly, "Now, would you like to see something of what

I assured him I sh

es's Hall, when we will have dinner at the Round, Cat

te vicinity of Mr. Lloyd and myself sat Sir Benjamin Baker, Mr. W. Horsley, R.A., Signor Randegger, Mr. N. Vert, and Dr. Scott, Mr. Lloyd's medical man-books of glees wer

nds me he has sung it many a time. A selection of

e the lyre! L

spring shall

all float al

low'rets pain

's Arbour." Not a note is lost by t

y are not dr

of sorrow

, and bends over the glee-book, and never moves except once, to look up in reverent thought. It is W. Horsley, the Royal Academician. Yet another is sung-a

well he remembers his father

seventy years. He said that my father's compositions were the most perfect of their kind he had ever heard. He took some copies of 'Celia

Lloyd j

Festival. They had gathered together in the bar of the hotel where I was staying. I had gone to bed and was awake

mean. I was something like that in the buttered biscuit

ILY G

to by Elli

er members in a glee for five voices. He wore an Eton su

ve! whose lo

across

y to the m

thy hapl

who sat and-thought, of those happy Westminster days, of those bewildering banquets at which he used to sing

before dispersing, the chairman gave out the number of the last glee, and Edw

y, sweet mi

ed to be t

h?bus hide

Thetis g

ill not o

s brightness

I'll such l

ll be a sun

ry

ult of the Joint Stock Act of 1862. In addition to Overend and Gurney's, there were Barnett's Bank of Liverpool, the Unity Bank," etc., etc. The words "Barnett's Bank" should read "B

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Duffus, 26, Queen S

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