no longer, is gloriously in it, and has just been gazetted to a Territorial
regiment whose Colonel bears the not uncommon name of Smith. Our tailor, of
course, and a rattling fine soldier too. Having discovered this latter fact
and also formed a remarkably cordial relationship apparently in a single
day, the enthusiastic cub subaltern (distemper and snobbishness over and
done with) motors up his C.O., who is visiting his brother and partner, and
brings him in to Grange Court on the way. _Sir Dennys_, now a brassarded
private and otherwise a converted man, is still confoundedly embarrassed,
and stands anything but easy in the presence of his youngster's Colonel.
_Lady Broughton_, least malleable of the group, is frankly appalled by this
new _mésalliance_. Perhaps Mr. TERRY'S version of blue-blooded insolence
and fatuity is for his stage purpose rather crudely coloured, but who shall
say that the doctrine that a man in khaki who has been an elementary
schoolmaster or a tailor is a man for a' that, is quite universally
accepted in the best circles even in this year of grace? _Betty_, now a
grown girl in the cynical stage, revenges herself with feline savagery on
the knight of the shears for the imagined slight of his defection.

Act III. is dated 19? just after peace is declared. The tailor is not (as I
half expected) back in his shop, but a _Brigadier-General Smith, V.C._, is
being invested with the freedom of Sheffingham and is making a spirited
attack on the defences of _Betty_. She puts up enough of a fight to ensure
a good Third Act, and capitulates charmingly to the delight, now, of all
the _Broughton_ household--butler included. I hope Mr. TERRY is right and
that the places taken in this great war game of _General Post_ and the
values registered will have permanence.

I won't deny that the excellent moral of the play goes far to disarm one's
critical faculty. Why not confess that one lost one's heart to the nicest
tailor since _Evan Harrington_? Indeed, Mr. TULLY (always, I find, quite