Paris hats to the value of £200.
A robe of baby lamb, £150.
Fifteen Paquin gowns.
Two long fur coats.
Five short fur coats.
Three sets of furs.
"She also admits that she bought such trifles in the way of jewellery as:—
A corsage with thirteen large diamonds.
Eighteen rows of pearls.
Eighteen diamond rings.
Two diamond butterflies.
One emerald ring.
Several pendants.
"Diamonds, says Miss W., are the joy of her life. Each night on the stage of the Olympia she wears between £30,000 and £40,000 worth of jewellery.'"
The woman who confides her wardrobe list and
the prices of her clothes to a Fleet Street hack of
the pen is far gone past recall, but her manner of
misdemeaning herself should not be proclaimed in
the Press under "headings" as if it were news of
importance to the country; and it would not be so
proclaimed were the Press entirely, instead of only
partially, in the hands of educated men.
In olden days it would seem that a great part of the responsibility of the Press lay in its criticism of art and literature. That burden, however, no longer lies upon its shoulders. Since the people began to read for themselves, newspaper criticism, so far as books are concerned, carries little weight. When some particular book secures a great success, we read this kind of thing about it: "In argument,
