"THE YOUNG PERSON IN PINK."
What the chair-man said about _The Young Person in Pink_ who had been
hanging about the Park every morning for a week was that nowadays you
couldn't really tell. He thought on the whole she was all right. The
balloon-woman was certain that with boots like that she must be a 'ussy;
but then she had refused to buy a balloon. As a matter of fact she
couldn't, being broke to the world. And worse. For she had arrived at
Victoria Station unable to remember who she was or where she came from,
ticketless, a few shillings in her purse. She had murmured "Season" at the
barrier and had taken rooms at the Carlton because she had a queer feeling
she had been there before. Her things had a coronet on them. The rest was a
blank.
Of course nobody believed her; the women were scornful, the men not quite
nice, till very young _Lord Stevenage_, the one that was engaged to a
notorious baby-snatcher, _Lady Tonbridge_--in a high fever he'd
unfortunately said "Yes"--meets her, and you guess the rest. No, you don't.
You couldn't possibly guess _Mrs. Badger_, relict of an undertaker and now
in the old-clothes line, who has social ambitions. (I must here say in
parenthesis that _Mrs. Badger_ is a double stroke of genius on the part
both of Miss JENNINGS the author and of Miss SYDNEY FAIRBROTHER. You don't
know which to admire most, the things she says [Miss J.] or the way she
says them [Miss S. B.]. Honours divided and high honours at that.)
_Lady Tonbridge_ had advertised for a clergyman's widow to render some
secretarial service, and the ambitious _Mrs. Badger_ had applied, duly
weeded. Meanwhile the elderly _Lady T._ had seen her _fiance_ and with the
young person in pink, and it was a brilliant and base afterthought to bribe
the clergyman's widow to claim the girl as her long-missing daughter
(invented). Both the young Lord and the young person, too much in love
perhaps to be critical, accept the situation; but you haven't quite got
_Mrs. Badger_ if you think she's the sort of person one would precisely
jump at for a mother-in-law.
At the supreme moment when _Mrs. B._, after an interview with the whisky
bottle, forgets her part and, lapsing into the mere widow of the
undertaker, gives it to the intriguing _Lady Tonbridge_ in the neck with a
wealth of imagery, a command of slightly slurred invective and a range of
facial expression beyond adequate description, she is perhaps less
attractive in the capacity of mother-by-marriage than ever, even if the
interlude prove the goodness of her heart. But it is just at that moment
that the young person is recognised by her maid. The daughter of the
_Duchess of Hampshire_, no less! So all is well.
Not that Miss JENNINGS' plot matters. She freely accepts the absurdities
which her bizarre outline demands, but doesn't shirk the pains to make her
situations possible within the pleasantly impossible frame. What is
all-important is that she does shake the house with genuinely explosive
humour.
If they were Miss JENNINGS' bombs, Miss FAIRBROTHER threw the most and the
best of them with a perfect aim. The rest of the platoon helped in varying
degrees. I hope I don't irretrievably damage Miss JOYCE CAREY'S reputation
as a modern when I say that she looked so pretty and innocent that I don't
believe even sour old spinsters would have doubted her. A charming and
capable performance. Mr. DONALD CALTHROP made love quite admirably on the
lighter note; a little awkwardly, perhaps, on the more serious. Miss SYBIL
CARLISLE handled an unpromising part with great skill. Miss ELLIS JEFFREYS
as the ineffable _Lady Tonbridge_ was as competent as ever, and had a coat
and skirt in the Third Act which filled the female breast with envy. Looks
like a long run.