were but so high--if every pit were but so spacious and well-lighted--if every circle, upper circle, and gallery were but so gracefully superimposed one above the other--and, especially, if everywhere there were such a rich profusion of decoration as one sees around one! Evidently there could be no more gorgeous frame for the picture which Miss Terry was about to paint for us. "It was Miss Terry's benefit night, and every stall was taken. This seemed to be the case, too, with the circle, and may have been so with other portions of the house. It seemed as if the pit were crammed, and in the stalls standing room was diligently sought for. It was obvious that Leeds playgoers had understood the nature of the treat that was before them. Whether it was that Miss Terry was personally the attraction of the evening, or whether Miss Terry as Beatrice had drawn the crowd, I cannot say. Suffice it that the crowd was, and that the crowd soon showed itself to be delighted." I cannot refrain from quoting this at length, because it supports my contention as to the privileges and appreciation of provincial audiences. "In the meantime," my authority goes on to say, "one did not occupy much time in looking round. It was not a London _première_, and certainly I did not hope to see a single face I knew. Yet, what was this? I could not be mistaken. There at any rate were two faces which I could not fail to recognise. At least, if that winsome countenance were not that of Miss Marion Terry, and if that not less winsome countenance beyond were not that of Miss Florence Terry--twin roses on one stalk--then did mine eyes deceive me. For myself, I opine that I was not deceived, and that Miss Terry's first appearance as Beatrice was witnessed not only by the art-lovers of the wood and iron metropolis, but by two of her sisters, both in art and by blood.