I have alluded to the beauty of Charles Kean’s diction.  His voice was also of a wonderful quality—­soft and low, yet distinct and clear as a bell.  When he played Richard II. the magical charm of this organ was alone enough to keep the house spellbound.  His vivid personality made a strong impression on me.  Yet others only remember that he called his wife “Delly,” though she was Nelly, and always spoke as if he had a cold in his head.  How strange!  If I did not understand what suggested impressions so different from my own, they would make me more indignant.

    “Now who shall arbitrate? 
    Ten men love what I hate,
    Shun what I follow, slight what I receive. 
    Ten who in ears and eyes
    Match me; they all surmise,
    They this thing, and I that: 
    Whom shall my soul believe?”

What he owed to Mrs. Kean, he would have been the first to confess.  In many ways she was the leading spirit in the theater; at the least, a joint ruler, not a queen-consort.  During the rehearsals Mr. Kean used to sit in the stalls with a loud-voiced dinner-bell by his side, and when anything went wrong on the stage, he would ring it ferociously, and everything would come to a stop, until Mrs. Kean, who always sat on the stage, had set right what was wrong.  She was more formidable than beautiful to look at, but her wonderful fire and genius were none the less impressive because she wore a white handkerchief round her head and had a very beaky nose!  How I admired and loved and feared her!  Later on the fear was replaced by gratitude, for no woman ever gave herself more trouble to train a young actress than did Mrs. Kean.  The love and admiration, I am glad to say, remained and grew.  It is rare that it falls to the lot of anyone to have such an accomplished teacher.  Her patience and industry were splendid.

It was Mrs. Kean who chose me out of five or six other children to play my first part.  We were all tried in it, and when we had finished, she said the same thing to us all:  “That’s very nice!  Thank you, my dear.  That will do.”

We none of us knew at the time which of us had pleased her most.

At this time we were living in the upper part of a house in the Gower Street region.  That first home in London I remember chiefly by its fine brass knocker, which mother kept beautifully bright, and by its being the place to which I was sent my first part!  Bound in green American cloth, it looked to me more marvelous than the most priceless book has ever looked since!  I was so proud and pleased and delighted that I danced a hornpipe for joy!