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The lady replied not, though Vane's soul appeared to hang upon her answer. But she threw the door open and there appeared another lady, the real Mrs. Vane. Mrs. Woffington then threw off her hood, and, to Sir Charles Pomander's consternation, revealed the features of that ingenious person, who seemed born to outwit him. "You heard that fervent declaration, madam?" said she to Mrs. Vane.
"You refuse, sir?" said Quin, sternly. "No, sir!" said Cibber, with dignity. "I accept." Pomander's eye was ever on the door. "The old are so unjust to the young," said he. "You pretend that the Deluge washed away iniquity, and that a rake is a fossil. What," said he, leaning as it were on every word, "if I bet you a cool hundred that Vane has a petticoat in that room, and that Mrs.
The actress, unable to extricate herself in a moment from the children, stood there like Charity, in New College Chapel, while the mother kissed her hand, and the father quietly dropped tears, like some leaden water god in the middle of a fountain. Vane turned hot and cold by turns, with joy and shame. Pomander's genius came to the aid of their embarrassment. "Follow my lead," whispered he. "What!
Vane, who took it very uneasily; a mist swam before his eyes as he read the words: "Alone and unprotected Mabel Vane." He had no sooner read these words, than he found he loved his wife; when he tampered with his treasure, he did not calculate on another seeking it. This was Pomander's hour of triumph! He proceeded coolly to explain to Mr. Vane, that, Mrs. Woffington having deserted him for Mr.
Sir C. Pomander's eye had been on her the moment she entered, and he watched keenly the effect of Vane's eloquent eulogy; but apparently the actress was too deep in her epilogue for anything else. She came in, saying, "Mum, mum, mum," over her task, and she went on doing so. The experienced Mr.
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