The play, whose only flaw was a certain rather upsetting ambiguity (whether accidental or designed I could not quite gather) in the last few sentences before the curtain fell, was interpreted with a very fine intelligence. Miss IRENE VANBRUGH'S superbly trained talent showed itself in an astonishing range of moods tethered in a plausible unity of conception. Mr. BOYNE, who is just coming into his own, scored bull after bull. Perhaps he didn't make _Oldham_ quite the Englishman that the author (I should say) designed, but rather an Irishman of that delightfully faint flavour which is so entirely attractive. Miss LILLAH MACARTHY, as _Maude Fulton_, a well-preserved bachelor in the most bizarre modern mode, also a dexterous liar and officious matchmaker, played with her head in her most accomplished manner and gave full value in the general scheme to a character which the author made a person when he might have been content with a peg. Mr. DION BOUCICAULT'S physician was as bland a humbug as ever coined guineas in Mayfair. Mr. MARTIN LEWIS, as a profoundly silly ass, played a difficult hand without fault. Miss NINA SEVENING, as a consoler of handsome men in trouble, and Miss FLORENCE LLOYD, as _Caroline's_ maid, competently rounded off in subsidiary _roles_ the work of the principals. Yes, undoubtedly a brilliant performance. T. [Illustration: BLIGHTED TROTH. _Caroline Ashley_ . . . . . . . Miss IRENE VANBRUGH. _Robert Oldham_ . . . . . . . Mr. LEONARD BOYNE.] * * * * * [Illustration: _Huntsman._ "GIVE US A BIT O' ROOM! YOU WAS NEARLY IN MY POCKET THAT TIME." _Flat-race Jockey._ "ROOM? WHY, I WAS NEARLY HALF A LENGTH BEHIND YOU."] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics._)