Gabrielle Ray’s birthday, 28 April; views on the effects of motoring on kissing

Gabrielle Ray (1883-1973), English musical comedy dancer and actress, who celebrated her birthday on 28 April.
(photo: Bassano, London, circa 1909)

‘THE MOTOR MOUTH.
‘EFFECTS ON KISSING.
‘The medical specialist who recently had the hardihood to assert that motoring would ultimately put an end to kissing, because it made the lips hard, will find few supporters among lady motorists, who are practically unanimous in describing his prophecy as nonsense.
”’King goes by favor,” said one young lady, ”and perhaps it is because no one will kiss him or take him for a motor drive that the poor man is setting up to be an authority on something that we understand better then he does.”
‘From the many inquiries made recently a Daily Mail representative arrived at the conclusion that ladies will not accept as a scientific fact that statements of the medical pessimist.
”’Motoring will go out of fashion before kissing will,” said Miss Marie Studholme. ”The gold wind makes one’s face hard for a little while, but most of the kissable people in the world are now motoring.”
‘Miss Gabrielle Ray thinks the medical specialist is a very funny man; ”but as I don’t go in for kissing,” she said, ”I don’t know much about hard mouths. I have done a lot of motoring, but very little kissing. At the same time, I think it would be a pity to discourage those who like kissing because it seems to please them very much. If I have by accident kissed anyone I have never heard any complaint about my mouths; but there, you see, I put cream on my face when going out in a motor-car, because before I used to do so the wind made my face very dry.”
‘Mlle. Mariette Sully, the charming French actress at Daly’s Theatre [in <HREF=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Merveilleuses>Les Merveilleuses], says it is very wicked of the doctor to talk like that. ”If he had said that motoring sops kissing because the automobile shakes so much,” she could understand him; ”but hard lips, oh, no, not at all.”
‘At the Apollo Theatre Miss Carrie Moore [who is appearing in The Dairymaids] holds the same views. ”Motor drives do not make the lips hard. Of course not. Motoring is lovely, and I am sure it won’t put kissing out of fashion.”
‘At the Gaiety Theatre [where The New Aladdin began its run on 29 September 1906] Miss Kitty Mason suggested that motoring will cause wrinkles round the eyes. ”People screw up their eyes when motoring,” she said, ”and I think that must eventually cause wrinkles.” ”Oh, I hope not,” said the other ladies so loudly that Mr George Edwardes had to call for order to allow the rehearsal to proceed.’
(The Grenfell Record and Lachlan District Advertiser, Grenfell, NSW, Australia, Saturday, 27 October 1906, p. 3c)

Phyllis Dare as Peggy in The Dairymaids, 1907-1908

Phyllis Dare (1890-1975), English actress, singer and star of musical comedy as she appeared in The Dairymaids, a farcical musical play, with music by Paul Rubens and Frank E. Tours, 1907-1908
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1907/08)

The Dairymaids was first produced by Robert Courtneidge at the Apollo Theatre, London, on 14 April 1906, with Carrie Moore in the leading role of Peggy. The piece ran for 239 performances and closed on 8 December 1906. Courtneidge organized various tours of The Dairymaids, including one for the autumn of 1907 which began at the Gaiety Theatre, Douglas, Isle of Man, on Monday, 19 August, with Phyllis Dare playing Peggy. Miss Dare was obliged to abandon her appearances for two weeks (Belfast and Sheffield) because of laryngitis, when the part of Peggy was taken by Violet Lloyd.

After a break during the Christmas season of 1907/08, during which Phyllis Dare appeared with Carrie Moore, Gwennie Hasto, Esta Stella, Rosie Berganine, John Humphries, Dan Rolyat, Stephen Adeson and Fred Leslie junior in the pantomime Cinderella at the Theatre Royal, Birmingham, she was again seen as Peggy in The Dairymaids. The production opened at the Queen’s Theatre, London, on 5 May 1908 for a run of 83 performances and closed on 18 July 1908.

* * * * *

‘LONDON, May 13 [1908]… . Revival of The Dairymaids this week at the Queen’s, the newest of London theaters, brings up that precocious little actress, Phyllis Dare, who, although she has been an established London favorite for three years, is only 19 years old. She has more ”puppy” adorers than any other woman on the English stage. The junior ”Johnnydom” goes mad over her, assures her of a well-filled house whenever she appears, and buys her postcards in thousands. It was the fair haired Phyllis who was summoned back from boarding school in Belgium when only 17 years of age to assume Edna May’s part in The Belle of Mayfair, when that independent American actress threw up her part because of the importance given to Camille Clifford, the original ”original” Gibson girl. The papers made so much of the fact that the little Phyllis’s studies had been interrupted by the siren call of Thespis that she packed the playhouse for many weeks with a curious public, many of whom had never before heard her name. Now I hear that Miss Dare will shortly essay the role of Juliet at a special matinee to be arranged by Robert Courtneidge, her manager.’
(Deseret Evening News, Salt Lake City, Utah, Saturday, 23 May 1908, p. 16c)

Coralie Blythe and chorus in the Motor Carnival scene in Mr Popple (of Ippleton), Apollo Theatre, London, 1905

Coralie Blythe (Mrs Lawrence Grossmith, 1880-1928), English musical comedy actress, as she appeared as Louise, with chorus, in the Motor Carnival scene in Paul Rubens‘s Mr Popple (of Ippleton), a comedy with music, produced at the Apollo Theatre, London, 14 November 1905.
(photo: probably Bassano, London, 1905; costumes made by Nettleship & Co Ltd, Wigmore Street, London)

‘The troupe of actresses who literally invade the stage from time to time with song and dance wear numbers of gay frocks, but never look better than in their white motor-coats and caps, a striking contrast to which is presented by Miss Coralie Blythe’s black blanketing coat, cap, and gloves. Miss Blythe plays the part of lady’s maid, and appears in a series of delightfully piquant black, and black-and-white short-skirted costumes.’
The Daily Mirror, London, Wednesday, 15 November 1905, p. 13b)

‘In the last Act we find everybody attending a Motor Carnival, of the Magpie Club, and they arrive singly and in sets, all muffled in huge white motor coats made from blankets. The designs vary a little, but large gold buttons and huge turn-back cuffs are the chief adornments.’
(‘A Chat About the Dresses,’ The Play Pictorial, no. 41, vol. 7, London, 1905, p. 54c)

Sarah Bernhardt in London, 1907, for the publication of her autobiography

Sarah Bernhardt (1845-1923), French tragedienne, in London, October/November 1907, for the French season and the publication of her autobiography, My Double Life

Madame Sarah Bernhardt and some of her Company; a group taken at the Royalty Theatre, London, October/November 1907.
left to right: Madame Allisson, M. Richard, M. Gerval, Mdlle. Flori, Madame Cerda, Madame Renée Parny, M. Mathillon, M. Maxudian, Madame Blanche Defrene, Madame Sarah Bernhardt, M. Decœur, Mdlle. Seylor, Madame Boulanger, M. Deneubourg, Madame Due, M. Piron, M. Guide, and M. Bouthors.
(photo: Dover Street Studios, London, 1907)

‘The interest of the playhouse in the feminine has been greatly increased during the week by the publication of My Double Life, the autobiography of Sarah Bernhardt, and the appearance of the lady herself at the Royalty. There has been so little of the mollusc [a reference to the comedy, The Mollusc, Criterion Theatre, London, 15 October 1907] about her that she might have well called it My Sextuple Life, for she has crammed into it enough to fill the lives of half-a-dozen ordinary women. She has dabbled in all the arts and touched the heights of passion in a way that would obsess most other women completely. It is a lively book tingling with sensations, and will interested everybody who cares to come into contact with a personality which feels life – and death for that matter – acutely. Her appearance at the Royalty is the most interesting event of the French season. Mr. Heinemann, who publishes the book (at 15s.) has also issued a cheap single-volume edition of Mr. Bram Stoker’s book on Sir Henry Irving.’
(J.M. Bulloch, The Sphere, London, Saturday, 26 October 1907, p.82b)

Madame Bernhardt asleep in her coffin. The celebrated photograph from My Double Life, the memoirs of Sarah Bernhardt, published in London in October 1907 by William Heinemann. (photo: unknown, Paris, 1880s)

‘It was by a curious coincidence that the week which saw the production of Mr. [Roy] Horniman’s play [The Education of Elizabeth, Apollo Theatre, London, 19 October 1907] should also have seen the publication of Madame Bernhardt’s autobiography My Double Life, which gives an extraordinarily vivid impression of the working of the wheels of the real theatrical mind, not so much in a direct way but so far as its entire spirit is concerned. The impression of the book has been heightened by the opportunity of seeing Sarah at the New Royalty, where Mr. Gaston Mayer is conducting a very brilliant French season. Madame Bernhardt, like everybody with a temperament, varies greatly, but of recent years she has seemed really to be getting younger. The mere ability of being able to play such stuff as [Victorien Sardou’s] La Sorcière is extraordinary.’
(The Sphere, London, Saturday, 2 November 1907, p.104c)

Gabrielle Ray (née Gabrielle Elizabeth Clifford Cook, 1883-1973), English musical comedy dancer and actress
(photo: Bassano, London, probably 1909)

’… To-day, in musical comedy it is the day of Mr Sydney Ellison [1870-1930, who in 1900 married Kate Cutler]. To hear a new number – a pretty tune, some smart lyrics, a pretty woman to sing and dance – and to see it on the night, and to mark the vast difference between the one and the other, is to see where the genius of the producer comes in. The newest sample of his work will be seen at the Gaiety on Wednesday, when “The Orchid” will be brought up to date with new songs and dances.
‘Mr Ellison -small, alert, active, quiet, vivacious, restrained, and, above all, with a marvellous grasp of every tiny detail, from the set of a scene to the shoelace of a chorus girl – is a wonderful type of a modern institution… .
‘To appreciate his skill, one must know that he sings, dances, designs costumes, paints pictures, acts, and nothing is too smell or too trivial for him to lavish his care upon. He will invent a step for a dance, plan a mechanical change of scenery, or design a colour scheme with equal facility, and some of his finest effects come to him on the spur of the moment.
‘He taught a Parisian company the cake-walk when he went over to produce “Florodora,” and he produced “Veronique” for Mr George Edwardes [at the Apollo, 18 May 1904], and he worked out the decorative embellishments of “The Orchid” when the new Gaiety stage was literally in the hands of the builders, carrying the thing through to a triumphant and gorgeous success on a “first night” [26 October 1903] that will long be remembered by all those who were privileged to be present… .
‘Miss Gabrielle Ray, slim and graceful, tucks up her long silk walking skirt, takes off her big black hat, pats the wayward mass of shimmering hair, and sings her new song, the “Promenade des Anglais,” that is going into the Carnival scene. Her voice is barely audible beyond the tall bracket with the lights, under which Mr Ellison stands and directs; but every action, every look even, is as it will be on the night. The verse ended, the chorus is given with a swing and a go quite irresistible even at twelve o’clock on a damp drizzly morning. Then Miss Ray dances.
‘Suddenly a brilliant idea strikes Mr. Ellison. She must do a complete turnover as a startling exit. Miss Ray, quick to respond to originality, sees it in an instant. With two of the chorus ladies as a sort of fulcrum, Miss Ray turns over, laughing the while, a swish of the skirts, and she alights on the dainty tips of her dainty toes. “Excellent!” says Mr. Ellison. “Oh! it’s really quite easy,” laughs Miss Gabrielle Ray. But those who know will tell you that the acrobatic feat, so neatly and withal so gracefully accomplished, involves thought and agility to bring it about.’
(Wakeling Dry, ‘Making Musical Comedy,’ from the Daily Express, London, reprinted in the The Wanganui Chronicle, Wanganui, New Zealand, 25 January 1905, p. 5g)

‘Concerning Gabrielle Ray, it may be of interest to note that here is a prime West End favorite who has won a foremost place in her particular section with no special gifts beyond those of comeliness and that indefinable quality of attractiveness which her countless admirers express in the phrase of “awfully sweet.”
‘Wins By Sheer Magnetism.
‘Even among the easily-pleased patrons of musical comedy the girls who are singled out for distinction have to make good either as singers, dancers or comedians but the case of Gabrielle Ray is an exception. Accomplishing nothing with special ability, she still has contrived by sheer magnetism of the prime favorites of the hallowed precincts of Daly’s and the immediate neighborhood. Ask an ardent admirer just why he goes to see her and he answers, “Oh, she’s quite charming,” and you have to let it go at that… . As a picture postcard subject she is an easy winner from all rivals.’
(The Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake City, Sunday, 19 March 1911, p. 21c/d)

Gabrielle Ray

Gabrielle Ray (née Gabrielle Elizabeth Clifford Cook, 1883-1973), English musical comedy dancer and actress
(photo: Bassano, London, probably 1909)

‘… To-day, in musical comedy it is the day of Mr Sydney Ellison [1870-1930, who in 1900 married Kate Cutler]. To hear a new number – a pretty tune, some smart lyrics, a pretty woman to sing and dance – and to see it on the night, and to mark the vast difference between the one and the other, is to see where the genius of the producer comes in. The newest sample of his work will be seen at the Gaiety on Wednesday, when ”The Orchid” will be brought up to date with new songs and dances.
‘Mr Ellison -small, alert, active, quiet, vivacious, restrained, and, above all, with a marvellous grasp of every tiny detail, from the set of a scene to the shoelace of a chorus girl – is a wonderful type of a modern institution… .
‘To appreciate his skill, one must know that he sings, dances, designs costumes, paints pictures, acts, and nothing is too smell or too trivial for him to lavish his care upon. He will invent a step for a dance, plan a mechanical change of scenery, or design a colour scheme with equal facility, and some of his finest effects come to him on the spur of the moment.
‘He taught a Parisian company the cake-walk when he went over to produce ”Florodora,” and he produced ”Veronique” for Mr George Edwardes [at the Apollo, 18 May 1904], and he worked out the decorative embellishments of ”The Orchid” when the new Gaiety stage was literally in the hands of the builders, carrying the thing through to a triumphant and gorgeous success on a ”first night” [26 October 1903] that will long be remembered by all those who were privileged to be present… .
‘Miss Gabrielle Ray, slim and graceful, tucks up her long silk walking skirt, takes off her big black hat, pats the wayward mass of shimmering hair, and sings her new song, the ”Promenade des Anglais,” that is going into the Carnival scene. Her voice is barely audible beyond the tall bracket with the lights, under which Mr Ellison stands and directs; but every action, every look even, is as it will be on the night. The verse ended, the chorus is given with a swing and a go quite irresistible even at twelve o’clock on a damp drizzly morning. Then Miss Ray dances.
‘Suddenly a brilliant idea strikes Mr. Ellison. She must do a complete turnover as a startling exit. Miss Ray, quick to respond to originality, sees it in an instant. With two of the chorus ladies as a sort of fulcrum, Miss Ray turns over, laughing the while, a swish of the skirts, and she alights on the dainty tips of her dainty toes. ”Excellent!” says Mr. Ellison. ”Oh! it’s really quite easy,” laughs Miss Gabrielle Ray. But those who know will tell you that the acrobatic feat, so neatly and withal so gracefully accomplished, involves thought and agility to bring it about.’
(Wakeling Dry, ‘Making Musical Comedy,’ from the Daily Express, London, reprinted in the The Wanganui Chronicle, Wanganui, New Zealand, 25 January 1905, p. 5g)

‘Concerning Gabrielle Ray, it may be of interest to note that here is a prime West End favorite who has won a foremost place in her particular section with no special gifts beyond those of comeliness and that indefinable quality of attractiveness which her countless admirers express in the phrase of ”awfully sweet.”
‘Wins By Sheer Magnetism.
‘Even among the easily-pleased patrons of musical comedy the girls who are singled out for distinction have to make good either as singers, dancers or comedians but the case of Gabrielle Ray is an exception. Accomplishing nothing with special ability, she still has contrived by sheer magnetism of the prime favorites of the hallowed precincts of Daly’s and the immediate neighborhood. Ask an ardent admirer just why he goes to see her and he answers, ”Oh, she’s quite charming,” and you have to let it go at that… . As a picture postcard subject she is an easy winner from all rivals.’
(The Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake City, Sunday, 19 March 1911, p. 21c/d)

Gabrielle Ray, English musical comedy dancer and actress

Gabrielle Ray (née Gabrielle Elizabeth Clifford Cook, 1883-1973), English musical comedy dancer and actress
(photo: Bassano, London, probably 1909)

‘… To-day, in musical comedy it is the day of Mr Sydney Ellison [1870-1930, who in 1900 married Kate Cutler]. To hear a new number – a pretty tune, some smart lyrics, a pretty woman to sing and dance – and to see it on the night, and to mark the vast difference between the one and the other, is to see where the genius of the producer comes in. The newest sample of his work will be seen at the Gaiety on Wednesday, when ”The Orchid” will be brought up to date with new songs and dances.
‘Mr Ellison -small, alert, active, quiet, vivacious, restrained, and, above all, with a marvellous grasp of every tiny detail, from the set of a scene to the shoelace of a chorus girl – is a wonderful type of a modern institution… .
‘To appreciate his skill, one must know that he sings, dances, designs costumes, paints pictures, acts, and nothing is too smell or too trivial for him to lavish his care upon. He will invent a step for a dance, plan a mechanical change of scenery, or design a colour scheme with equal facility, and some of his finest effects come to him on the spur of the moment.
‘He taught a Parisian company the cake-walk when he went over to produce ”Florodora,” and he produced ”Veronique” for Mr George Edwardes [at the Apollo, 18 May 1904], and he worked out the decorative embellishments of ”The Orchid” when the new Gaiety stage was literally in the hands of the builders, carrying the thing through to a triumphant and gorgeous success on a ”first night” [26 October 1903] that will long be remembered by all those who were privileged to be present… .
‘Miss Gabrielle Ray, slim and graceful, tucks up her long silk walking skirt, takes off her big black hat, pats the wayward mass of shimmering hair, and sings her new song, the ”Promenade des Anglais,” that is going into the Carnival scene. Her voice is barely audible beyond the tall bracket with the lights, under which Mr Ellison stands and directs; but every action, every look even, is as it will be on the night. The verse ended, the chorus is given with a swing and a go quite irresistible even at twelve o’clock on a damp drizzly morning. Then Miss Ray dances.
‘Suddenly a brilliant idea strikes Mr. Ellison. She must do a complete turnover as a startling exit. Miss Ray, quick to respond to originality, sees it in an instant. With two of the chorus ladies as a sort of fulcrum, Miss Ray turns over, laughing the while, a swish of the skirts, and she alights on the dainty tips of her dainty toes. ”Excellent!” says Mr. Ellison. ”Oh! it’s really quite easy,” laughs Miss Gabrielle Ray. But those who know will tell you that the acrobatic feat, so neatly and withal so gracefully accomplished, involves thought and agility to bring it about.’
(Wakeling Dry, ‘Making Musical Comedy,’ from the Daily Express, London, reprinted in the The Wanganui Chronicle, Wanganui, New Zealand, 25 January 1905, p. 5g)

‘Concerning Gabrielle Ray, it may be of interest to note that here is a prime West End favorite who has won a foremost place in her particular section with no special gifts beyond those of comeliness and that indefinable quality of attractiveness which her countless admirers express in the phrase of ”awfully sweet.”
‘Wins By Sheer Magnetism.
‘Even among the easily-pleased patrons of musical comedy the girls who are singled out for distinction have to make good either as singers, dancers or comedians but the case of Gabrielle Ray is an exception. Accomplishing nothing with special ability, she still has contrived by sheer magnetism of the prime favorites of the hallowed precincts of Daly’s and the immediate neighborhood. Ask an ardent admirer just why he goes to see her and he answers, ”Oh, she’s quite charming,” and you have to let it go at that… . As a picture postcard subject she is an easy winner from all rivals.’
(The Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake City, Sunday, 19 March 1911, p. 21c/d)

Vera Neville (née Vera Blanche Neville Snepp, 1888-1953), English actress
(photo: Rita Martin, London, circa 1908)

Vera Neville was the daughter of Alfred Neville Snepp (1857-1935), an electrician and later a cigarette manufacturer, and his wife Laura Kate (née Browne, 1861-1941) who were married at All Souls Church, Marylebone, London, on 1 December 1887. Her paternal grandfather was the Rev. Edward Snepp (1827-1899), sometime vicar of St. Paul’s Church, Kings Cross, Halifax, Yorkshire.

In 1909 Vera Neville was married to ‘Tommy’ Graves (Henry Algernon Claude Graves, 1877-1963), who became 7th Baron Graves of Gravesend upon the death of his cousin in 1937. Their son was the actor Peter Graves (1911-1994) whose wife was the actress and singer, Vanessa Lee (1920-1992). Following Miss Neville’s divorce in 1922 from Graves she married in the same year Philip Ernest Hill (1873-1944), the successful property developer and financier, from whom she was divorced in 1933.

The details of Miss Neville’s introduction to the theatre are as yet unknown apart from the fact that one of her earliest engagements was as understudy to Gabrielle Ray. Her first substantial part appears to have been as Perlie in Grossmith and Laurillard’s production of Victor Herbert’s musical play The Only Girl, which opened at the Apollo Theatre, London, on 25 September 1915. She was next seen in Mr Manhattan, a musical play which was produced at the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, London, on 30 March 1916; and then in the comedy with music Houp La! (St. Martin’s Theatre, London, 23 November 1916), starring Nat. D. Ayer and Gertie Millar. Her next engagement was in the ‘War Economy Revue’ £150 (Ambassadors’ Theatre, London, 30 April 1917); and then finally in A Certain Liveliness (St. Martin’s, 17 February 1919), a play by Basil Macdonald Hastings.

Vera Neville

Vera Neville (née Vera Blanche Neville Snepp, 1888-1953), English actress
(photo: Rita Martin, London, circa 1908)

Vera Neville was the daughter of Alfred Neville Snepp (1857-1935), an electrician and later a cigarette manufacturer, and his wife Laura Kate (née Browne, 1861-1941) who were married at All Souls Church, Marylebone, London, on 1 December 1887. Her paternal grandfather was the Rev. Edward Snepp (1827-1899), sometime vicar of St. Paul’s Church, Kings Cross, Halifax, Yorkshire.

In 1909 Vera Neville was married to ‘Tommy’ Graves (Henry Algernon Claude Graves, 1877-1963), who became 7th Baron Graves of Gravesend upon the death of his cousin in 1937. Their son was the actor Peter Graves (1911-1994) whose wife was the actress and singer, Vanessa Lee (1920-1992). Following Miss Neville’s divorce in 1922 from Graves she married in the same year Philip Ernest Hill (1873-1944), the successful property developer and financier, from whom she was divorced in 1933.

The details of Miss Neville’s introduction to the theatre are as yet unknown apart from the fact that one of her earliest engagements was as understudy to Gabrielle Ray. Her first substantial part appears to have been as Perlie in Grossmith and Laurillard’s production of Victor Herbert’s musical play The Only Girl, which opened at the Apollo Theatre, London, on 25 September 1915. She was next seen in Mr Manhattan, a musical play which was produced at the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, London, on 30 March 1916; and then in the comedy with music Houp La! (St. Martin’s Theatre, London, 23 November 1916), starring Nat. D. Ayer and Gertie Millar. Her next engagement was in the ‘War Economy Revue’ £150 (Ambassadors’ Theatre, London, 30 April 1917); and then finally in A Certain Liveliness (St. Martin’s, 17 February 1919), a play by Basil Macdonald Hastings.

Vera Neville, English actress and mother-in-law of the actress and singer, Vanessa Lee

Vera Neville (née Vera Blanche Neville Snepp, 1888-1953), English actress
(photo: Rita Martin, London, circa 1908)

Vera Neville was the daughter of Alfred Neville Snepp (1857-1935), an electrician and later a cigarette manufacturer, and his wife Laura Kate (née Browne, 1861-1941) who were married at All Souls Church, Marylebone, London, on 1 December 1887. Her paternal grandfather was the Rev. Edward Snepp (1827-1899), sometime vicar of St. Paul’s Church, Kings Cross, Halifax, Yorkshire.

In 1909 Vera Neville was married to ‘Tommy’ Graves (Henry Algernon Claude Graves, 1877-1963), who became 7th Baron Graves of Gravesend upon the death of his cousin in 1937. Their son was the actor Peter Graves (1911-1994) whose wife was the actress and singer, Vanessa Lee (1920-1992). Following Miss Neville’s divorce in 1922 from Graves she married in the same year Philip Ernest Hill (1873-1944), the successful property developer and financier, from whom she was divorced in 1933.

The details of Miss Neville’s introduction to the theatre are as yet unknown apart from the fact that one of her earliest engagements was as understudy to Gabrielle Ray. Her first substantial part appears to have been as Perlie in Grossmith and Laurillard’s production of Victor Herbert’s musical play The Only Girl, which opened at the Apollo Theatre, London, on 25 September 1915. She was next seen in Mr Manhattan, a musical play which was produced at the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, London, on 30 March 1916; and then in the comedy with music Houp La! (St. Martin’s Theatre, London, 23 November 1916), starring Nat. D. Ayer and Gertie Millar. Her next engagement was in the ‘War Economy Revue’ £150 (Ambassadors’ Theatre, London, 30 April 1917); and then finally in A Certain Liveliness (St. Martin’s, 17 February 1919), a play by Basil Macdonald Hastings.