"One more thing. ('What an impertinent old uncle! Always finding fault!') You're not as _natural_, when acting the Duke, as you were when you acted Alice. You seemed to me not to forgot _yourself_ enough. It was not so much a real _prince_ talking to his elder brother and his uncle; it was _Isa Bowman_ talking to people she didn't _much_ care about, for an audience to listen to--I don't mean it was that all _through_, but _sometimes_ you were _artificial_. Now don't be jealous of Miss Hatton, when I say she was _sweetly_ natural. She looked and spoke like a _real_ Prince of Wales. And she didn't seem to know that there was any audience. If you are ever to be a _good_ actress (as I hope you will), you must learn to _forget_ 'Isa' altogether, and _be_ the character you are playing. Try to think 'This is _really_ the Prince of Wales. I'm his little brother, and I'm _very_ glad to meet him, and I love him _very_ much,' and 'this is _really_ my uncle: he's very kind, and lets me say saucy things to him,' and _do_ forget that there's anybody else listening! "My sweet pet, I _hope_ you won't be offended with me for saying what I fancy might make your acting better! "Your loving old Uncle, "CHARLES. X for NELLIE. X for MAGGIE. X for EMSIE. X for ISA." He was a fairly constant patron of all the London theatres, save the Gaiety and the Adelphi, which he did not like, and numbered a good many theatrical folk among his acquaintances. Miss Ellen Terry was one of his greatest friends. Once I remember we made an expedition from Eastbourne to Margate to visit Miss Sarah Thorne's theatre, and especially for the purpose of seeing Miss Violet Vanbrugh's Ophelia. He was a great admirer of both Miss Violet and Miss Irene Vanbrugh as actresses. Of Miss Thorne's school of acting, too, he had the highest opinion, and it was his often expressed wish that all intending players could have so excellent a course of tuition. Among the male members of the theatrical profession he had no especial favourites, excepting Mr. Toole and Mr. Richard Mansfield. He never went to a music-hall, but considered that, properly managed, they might be beneficial to the public. It was only when the refrain of some particularly vulgar music-hall song broke upon his ears in the streets that he permitted himself to speak harshly about variety theatres. Comic opera, when it was wholesome, he liked, and was a frequent visitor to the Savoy theatre. The good old style of Pantomime, too, was a great delight to him, and he would often speak affectionately of the pantomimes at Brighton during the regime of Mr. and Mrs. Nye Chart. But of the up-to-date pantomime he had a horror, and nothing would induce him to visit one. "When pantomimes are written for children once more," he said, "I will go. Not till then."