Of course her admirers rallied round her to a man--and woman--and her difficult task of succeeding an eminent artiste in a newly created part was not only fulfilled to perfection but crowned with well won approbation. There was no false note about the praise. The "wanderer" was not extolled because she was Ellen Terry, but because of the true excellence of her acting. The enthusiasm of her reception and the appreciation of her critics must have warmed her heart and encouraged her, for she has said that from that time until the present she has never lost zest for her work. Of this notable impersonation of Charles Reade's Philippa Chester (by the way, the play was no doubt suggested by the famous Tichborne case, which was then the talk of the hour), the critic of the _Daily Telegraph_ said:-- "Miss Ellen Terry possesses exactly the qualifications demanded by such a character as Philippa, and the undiminished brightness and buoyancy of her style became at once apparent in the scene when the hoyden dwells with such delight on her love of boyish pastimes, yet shows how much she retains of girlish modesty and simplicity. Hardly less effective when the action is transferred to America, and Philippa appears in male attire, was her generous devotion to the interests of James Annesley--while the struggle under masculine garb to veil repeated signs of strong womanly devotion was most artistically indicated. Mr. Charles Reade's drama of 'The Wandering Heir,' which possesses a highly-interesting story wrought out with remarkable ingenuity, has thus become endowed with an additional element of attraction, and the prosperous career of a piece having a peculiar significance at the present time promises to be prolonged far beyond the hundred nights it has already nearly attained." When his tenancy of the Queen's Theatre came to an end, the energetic Charles Reade took his plays and his loyal little company over Westminster Bridge to "Astley's," of immortal memory, and there Ellen Terry distinguished herself not only as Philippa Chester, but as Susan Merton in the famous "Never Too Late to Mend," which, admirable as it was in its volume form, became even more popular when transferred by its masterly author to the stage. Even after this lapse of time the stirring drama, teaching as it does the most useful of lessons, is a good one to conjure with, and in the provinces, at least, is always sure to attract its faithful pit and gallery.