The comedy was called "The Wooing of Winifred." It was written by an author whose name I forget; produced by the well-known and (as his press agent has often told us) popular actor-manager, Mr. Levinski; and played by (among others) that very charming young man, Prosper Vane--known locally as Alfred Briggs until he took to the stage. Prosper played the young hero, _Dick Seaton_, who was actually wooing _Winifred_. Mr. Levinski himself took the part of a middle-aged man of the world with a slight embonpoint; down in the programme as _Sir Geoffrey Throssell_, but fortunately still Mr. Levinski. His opening words, as he came on, were, "Ah, Dick, I have a note for you somewhere," which gave the audience an interval in which to welcome him, while he felt in all his pockets for the letter. One can bow quite easily while feeling in one's pockets, and it is much more natural than stopping in the middle of an important speech in order to acknowledge any cheers. The realisation of this, by a dramatist, is what is called "stagecraft." In this case the audience could tell at once that the "technique" of the author (whose name unfortunately I forget) was going to be all right. But perhaps I had better describe the whole play as shortly as possible. The theme--as one guessed from the title, even before the curtain rose--was the wooing of _Winifred_. In the First Act _Dick_ proposed to _Winifred_ and was refused by her, not from lack of love, but for fear lest she might spoil his career, he being one of those big-hearted men with a hip-pocket to whom the open spaces of the world call loudly. Whereupon Mr. Levinski took _Winifred_ on one side and told the audience how, when he had been a young man, some good woman had refused him for a similar reason and had been miserable ever since. Accordingly in the Second Act _Winifred_ withdrew her refusal and offered to marry _Dick_, who declined to take advantage of her offer for fear that she was willing to marry him from pity rather than from love; whereupon Mr. Levinski took _Dick_ on one side and told the audience how, when _he_ had been a young man, he had refused to marry some good woman (a different one) for a similar reason, and had been broken-hearted ever afterwards. In the Third Act it really seemed as though they were coming together at last; for at the beginning of it Mr. Levinski took them both aside and told the audience a parable about a butterfly and a snap-dragon, which was both pretty and helpful, and caused several middle-aged ladies in the first and second rows of the upper circle to say, "What a nice man Mr. Levinski must be at home, dear!"--the purport of the allegory being to show that both _Dick_ and _Winifred_ were being very silly, as indeed by this time everybody but the author was aware. Unfortunately at that moment a footman entered with a telegram for _Miss Winifred_, which announced that she had been left fifty thousand pounds by a dead uncle in Australia; and although Mr.