leading us, the author flagrantly makes the woman contradict her whole
nature in the last act; and, because her husband falls again, she, instead
of raising him with all the tender mercies and humanities of wifehood,
declares that her life has been one long mistake, and that she accepts the
divorce which the Court had unjustly granted. The moral, if such a word may
be applied to such a piece is this: "The law may be bad, but human nature
is worse."'

The other morning papers took the same view,--a great deal of talent wasted
on a subject that could please no one. Hubert threw the papers aside, lay
back, and in the lucid idleness of the bed his thoughts grew darker. It was
hardly possible that the piece could survive such notices; and if it did
not? Well, he would have to go. But until the piece was taken out of the
bills it would be a weakness to harbour the ugly thought.

There were, however, the evening papers to look forward to, and soon after
midday Annie was sent to buy all that had appeared. Hubert expected to find
in these papers a more delicate appreciation of his work. Many of the
critics of the evening press were his personal friends, and nearly all were
young men in full sympathy with the new school of dramatic thought. He read
paper after paper with avidity; and Annie was sent in a cab to buy one that
had not yet found its way so far north as Fitzroy Street. The opinion of
this paper was of all importance, and Hubert tore it open with trembling
fingers. Although more temperately written than the others, it was clearly
favourable, and Hubert sighed a sweet sigh of relief. A weight was lifted
from him; the world suddenly seemed to grow brighter; and he went to the
theatre that evening, and, half doubting and half confidently, presented
himself at the door of Montague Ford's dressing-room. The actor had not yet
begun to dress, and was busy writing letters. He stretched his hand
hurriedly to Hubert.