THE THEATRE.
"THE ' RUINED ' LADY," COMEDY THEATRE.
IT would appear from the current London productions that there is nothing more difficult than to find a good title for a play— unless indeed it is, having founds good title, to write a good play. Take Daddalunss, for example, which its manager has officially announced to be the worst-named play in London. In the case of The Ruined' Lady, it is almost impossible to avoid all of the many bad jokes which instantly crowd the mind on amended titles on the lines of "The Ruined Evening" or "The Ruined Box Office," both examples, be it said, being little truer than they are generous.
Ann Mortimer (Miss Rosa Lynd) has been engaged for eight years to Bill Bruce (Mr. C. Aubrey Smith plus one of the largest pipes ever seen on the stage). First she would not marry him because she had an orphan nephew and niece to bring up. Later, they being next-door neighbours and she looking after his house for him, he was perfectly content, and for years " for- got " to propose to her. Ann Mortimer, wishing to cure his forgetfulness, tries coldness ; tries flirting with some- body else ; tries flirting with Bill ; tries apparently everything except a tour abroad (an obvious means which would not have suited the interests of Mr. Nordstrom's plot). Finally abetted by her friend, Miss Olive Gresham (Miss Eva Moore), she decides to try to get up a scandal. She goes to Bill Bruce's house late, only to find that he has gone to the club for the night, an annual event. A shocking rainstorm (effect rather overdone) and a paternal butler force her to stay the night. Bill Bruce unexpectedly comes back from the smoking concert, and with great good sense refuses to see any- thing indelicate in their position. They sit by the fire talking. The storm and a broken-down car bring Ann's nephew, a dissi- pated school friend and two chorus girls to shelter there also. The joke has gone almost too far. Not too far, however, for Arm is so tired of being respectable that she thoroughly enjoys a scandal even if it be on false pretences, a point on which she is a little too insistent and regretful. The scene ends in the small hours of the morning when Bill Bruce is finally brought to the point, but by no particular climax.
A thirtnish plot, the reader will agree. However, it is embel- lished by a good many quite pleasant jokelets and verbal felicities. These form a kind of network over the slenderest places of the plot, save it from complete breakdown, and just enable it to carry the audience safely home to bed. Tann;
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