Mr. & Mrs. Bancroft on and Off the Stage (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1889 Excerpt: ...and that they must go. To this proposal 'mine host' naturally objected. Eventually the man was allowed to depart alone, leaving the lady with her luggage to be redeemed. The money for the hotel bill, it seems, was sent in a few days, and the hostage released; the claim sent into me being for carriage and horse hire which had been overlooked at the time, the livery-stable business being separate from that of the hotel. When, at last, my visitor went away, he left, I feel assured, full of conflicting emotions, hardly knowing which of his senses he best could trust. We neither of us to our knowledge have ever seen either of these people, and can give no opinion of this apparently singular likeness--all the more remarkable as it applied to two people. Sometimes I have wondered if the lady could have been the person of whom Mrs. Bancroft writes in an earlier chapter. One day, shortly before the interview I have related, and prior to the re-opening of the theatre, I was asked by Meredith Ball, our musical conductor, how I liked a new play which had just been produced at the Criterion Theatre. To my answer that I had not seen it yet, he seemed greatly surprised, and exclaimed, ' Not seen it why, weren't you there last night?' Last night, ' I replied; 'certainly not. I have only just returned to England; in fact, reached Charing' Cross last evening.' 'That's very extraordinary, ' said Ball. 'One of the band, who has been with me for years, and has been filling up the vacation by playing in the orchestra at the Criterion, told me just now that he saw you and Mrs. Bancroft there last evening in a private box.' Afterwards this friendly musician, who of course knew us both quite well, could hardly be convinced of his error. Later on two young friends of ours wrote home ...