In common with all plays "The Amber Heart" had its vicissitudes. Indeed, it would be an interesting thing to write a history of successful plays, and the anxieties of their authors before they were safely landed for gratifying production. How many pieces have lain neglected for years until some chance coming in their way disclosed their merit! But the troubles of "The Amber Heart" were neither many nor keen. Written in 1886, the piece was read first of all to Mary Anderson, who, then in the zenith of her invincible popularity, was playing at the Lyceum. It was at the suggestion of the ill-fated William Terriss that the author submitted it to this charming and accomplished lady. Having heard the play, she was most enthusiastic about it. "Lovely! lovely!" she repeated after the author had read it; "if it can only be produced I am sure we shall have a success." But that season's arrangements having already been fixed gave no chance for it. It was then suggested to Ellen Terry, for whom, indeed, it had originally been written, but who so far had been unable to consider it because of her existing engagements. However, in reply to the author's final question as to whether she could seriously entertain it, she telegraphed, "Yes, with pleasure, to-day at twelve." This was January 6, 1887. The author read the play to her, and she, too, was most enthusiastic. "I'll do it, I'll do it!" she exclaimed; "I've longed for such a part." The difficulty, of course, was how to get it done. Ellen Terry was then playing Margaret in "Faust," and rehearsing other plays besides, and, of course, she was pledged to the arrangements of Henry Irving. At length it was decided that it should be produced at the Haymarket Theatre on May 7th for a matinee. The theatre was arranged for, and the date advertised, when the already too busy actress found that she could not fulfil her promise until a month later. This, of course (and naturally to the intense disappointment of the author), unsettled everything. The following month the Haymarket passed into new managerial hands, and so the piece could not be done there. Then, following his invariable custom, Henry Irving generously stepped into the breach, and offered his friend, the dramatist, the free use of the Lyceum for the production. That difficulty was, at length, satisfactorily settled, but the casting of the piece was not easily effected. The casting of plays for tentative performances seldom is. Ultimately, and after an infinity of trouble, he had good cause to congratulate himself. Ellen Terry, E. S. Willard, and Beerbohm Tree! Never before, and never since, have this talented trio appeared together, and the minor parts were played by excellent actors and actresses. "If I were to write volumes," says my friend, "I could not say how hard Miss Terry worked to make the piece a success. Her whole soul was thrown into it." At the rehearsals her enthusiasm fired her companions.