No, he was not going to say anything, but suddenly he took a ladleful of the hot soup and dashed it over the neck of one sister; another ladleful followed quickly on the neck of the other.

“Oh, father, you’ve burned my neck!”

“Oh, father, you’ve spoiled my dress!”

“Oh, father, why did you do that?”

“I thought you might be cold,” said the severe father significantly—­malevolently.

That a woman who had been brought up like this should form a friendship with me naturally caused a good deal of talk.  But what did she care!  She remained my true friend until her death, and wrote to me constantly when I was in England—­such loving, wise letters, full of charity and simple faith.  In 1889, after her husband’s death, I wrote to her and sent my picture, and she replied: 

“My darling Nellie,—­

“You cannot know how it soothes my extreme heart-loneliness to receive a token of remembrance, and word of cheer from those I have faithfully loved, and who knew and reverenced my husband....  Ellen Terry is very sweet as Ellaline, but dearer far as my Nellie.”

The Daly players were a revelation to me of the pitch of excellence which American acting had reached.  My first night at Daly’s was a night of enchantment.  I wrote to Mr. Daly and said:  “You’ve got a girl in your company who is the most lovely, humorous darling I have ever seen on the stage.”  It was Ada Rehan!  Now of course I didn’t “discover” her or any rubbish of that kind; the audience were already mad about her, but I did know her for what she was, even in that brilliant “all-star” company and before she had played in the classics and won enduring fame.  The audacious, superb, quaint, Irish creature!  Never have I seen such splendid high comedy!  Then the charm of her voice—­a little like Ethel Barrymore’s when Miss Ethel is speaking very nicely—­her smiles and dimples, and provocative, inviting coquetterie!  Her Rosalind, her Country Wife, her Helena, her performance in “The Railroad of Love”!  And above all, her Katherine in “The Taming of the Shrew”!  I can only exclaim, not explain!  Directly she came on I knew how she was going to do the part.  She had such shy, demure fun.  She understood, like all great comedians, that you must not pretend to be serious so sincerely that no one in the audience sees through it!

As a woman off the stage Ada Rehan was even more wonderful than as a shrew on.  She had a touch of dignity, of nobility, of beauty, rather like Eleonora Duse’s.  The mouth and the formation of the eye were lovely.  Her guiltlessness of make-up off the stage was so attractive!  She used to come in to a supper with a lovely shining face which scorned a powder puff.  The only thing one missed was the red hair which seemed such a part of her on the stage.

Here is a dear letter from the dear, written in 1890: 

“My dear Miss Terry,—­

“Of course the first thing I was to do when I reached Paris was to write and thank you for your lovely red feathers.  One week is gone.  To-day it rains and I am compelled to stay at home, and at last I write.  I thought you had forgotten me and my feathers long ago.  So imagine my delight when they came at the very end.  I liked it so.  It seemed as if I lived all the time in your mind:  and they came as a good-bye.