the right asjusting of her train, lest it should chance to trip up her heels, or incommode her as she walks to and fro upon the stage. It is, in my opinion, a very odd spectacle to see a Queen venting her passions in a disordered motion, and a little boy all the while taking care they do not ruffle the tail of her gown. The parts that the two persons act on the stage at the same time are very different. The princess is afraid lest she should incur the displeasure of the King her father, or lose the hero her lover, whilst her attendant is only concerned lest she should entangle her feet in her petticoat. ... In short, I would have our conception raised by the dignity of thought and sublimity of expression, rather than by a train of robes or plume of feathers."
But here was no plea for correctness of costume, which might have obviated the distractions complained of. Nowadays we have altered all that, and indeed we had one modern play, Frocks and Frills, frankly devoted to dress as the pivot of its plot. Yet its author, Mr. Grundy, never gives any very special instructions in the matter of costume, his stage directions being very simple, merely stating whether a woman should be handsomely or poorly dressed. He declares, however, that directly he sees the players ready and "made up," he can realise whether or not his work is going to be successful, feeling that if they have realised the personalities, and look like the men and women he has conceived, they will represent the characters convincingly. He audaciously advances the dogma, that every woman is at heart a fashion-plate, and I wish I could set him down for serious conversion by Mrs. Tree, one
