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 brilliant picture of flowers, and a peacock made in some mysterious Chinese manner.

Wednesday, 13th.

We all went to the play on Monday except Fanny, who thought it would be tiresome; but, for a wonder, it turned out very amusing. The great actress, Mrs. D, acted the Lady of Lyons. What an interesting play it is! And she did it very well, though a little Miss C, who came out only as the confidante of Mrs. D on half-pay, cut her out completely. She is one of the best comic actresses I have seen, and had great success: the house was for the first time so full that there was not a spare chair. Mrs. D is very handsome, and Miss C—— very ugly, but they were both so applauded that Mrs. L———, who was born in the country, and has for eighteen years been the only professional actress in India, fell into hysterics, rushed into Mrs. D’s room, and said she must have paid people to applaud her, and that she should never act again on her stage. Mrs. D, with considerable majesty, desired her leave the room. Mrs. L—— said it was her room and her theatre. Mrs. D signified that if these were Indian