"I have thus set down, my dear Irving, one or two things merely to show that my gratitude to you is not that of a blind gratified idiot, but of one whose intimate personal knowledge of the English stage entitles him to say what he owes to you." "I am "Affectionately yours, "A.J. DUFFIELD." In 1891, when we revived "Much Ado," Henry's Benedick was far more brilliant than it was at first. In my diary, January 5, 1891, I wrote: "Revival of 'Much Ado about Nothing.' Went most brilliantly. Henry has vastly improved upon his _old_ rendering of Benedick. Acts larger now--not so 'finicking.' His model (of manner) is the Duke of Sutherland. VERY good. I did some parts better, I think--made Beatrice a nobler woman. Yet I failed to please myself in the Cathedral Scene." _Two days later._--"Played the Church Scene all right at last. More of a _blaze_. The little scene in the garden, too, I did better (in the last act). Beatrice has _confessed_ her love, and is now _softer_. Her voice should be beautiful now, breaking out into playful defiance now and again, as of old. The last scene, too, I made much more merry, happy, _soft_." _January 8._--"I must make Beatrice more _flashing_ at first, and _softer_ afterwards. This will be an improvement upon my old reading of the part. She must be always _merry_ and by turns scornful, tormenting, vexed, self-communing, absent, melting, teasing, brilliant, indignant, _sad-merry_, thoughtful, withering, gentle, humorous, and gay, Gay, _Gay_! Protecting (to Hero), motherly, very intellectual--a gallant creature and complete in mind and feature." After a run of two hundred and fifty nights, "Much Ado," although it was still drawing fine houses, was withdrawn as we were going to America in the autumn (of 1883) and Henry wanted to rehearse the plays that we were to do in the States by reviving them in London at the close of the summer season. It was during these revivals that I played Janette in "The Lyons Mail"--not a big part, and not well suited to me, but I played it well enough to support my theory that whatever I have _not_ been, I _have_ been a useful actress. I always associate "The Lyons Mail" with old Mead, whose performance of the father, Jerome Lesurques, was one of the most impressive things that this fine actor ever did with us. (Before Henry was ever heard of, Mead had played Hamlet at Drury Lane!) Indeed when he "broke up," Henry put aside "The Lyons Mail" for many years because he dreaded playing Lesurques' scene with his father without Mead.