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Vane's company to come and praise his work; and ever since that he had been morne et silencieux. "You are fortunate," continued Mrs. Woffington, not caring what she said; "it is so difficult to make execution keep pace with conception." "Yes, ma'am;" and he painted on. "You are satisfied with it?" "Anything but, ma'am;" and he painted on. "Cheerful soul! then I presume it is like?"
Pass her plate!" "Not at present, Mr. Quin," said Mr. Vane, hastily. "She is about to retire and change her traveling-dress." "Yes, dear; but, you forget, I am a stranger to your friends. Will you not introduce me to them first?" "No, no!" cried Vane, in trepidation. "It is not usual to introduce in the beau monde." "We always introduce ourselves," rejoined Mrs. Woffington.
Her countenance brightened into rapture at the picture, and Mrs. Woffington's darkened with bitterness as she watched her. But Mabel reflected. "Rob you of your good name?" said this pure creature. "Ah, Mabel Vane! you think but of yourself." "I thank you, madam," said Mrs. Woffington, a little touched by this unexpected trait; "but some one must suffer here, and " Mabel Vane interrupted her.
Vane understood the sex, he would not have interpreted her refusal to the letter; when there was a postscript, the meaning of which was so little enigmatical. Some three hours after the scene we have described, Mrs. Woffington sat in Triplet's apartment; and Triplet, palette in hand, painted away upon her portrait. Mrs.
Woffington gayly; for she scorned to admit the fine gentleman to the rank of a permanent enemy, "you will be of our party, I trust, at dinner?" "Why, no, madam; I fear I cannot give myself that pleasure to-day." Sir Charles did not choose to swell the triumph. "Mr. Vane, good day!" said he, rather dryly. "Mr.
Vane, and Mr. Vane his wife for Mrs. Woffington, the bereaved parties had, according to custom, agreed to console each other. This soothing little speech was interrupted by Mr. Vane's sword flashing suddenly out of its sheath; while that gentleman, white with rage and jealousy, bade him instantly take to his guard, or be run through the body like some noxious animal.
Play something to make me lose sight of saucy Peg Woffington, and I'll give the world five acts more before the curtain falls on Colley Cibber." "If you could be deceived," put in Mr. Vane, somewhat timidly; "I think there is no disguise through which grace and beauty such as Mrs. Woffington's would not shine, to my eyes."
Colley's reminiscences were interrupted by loud applause from the theater; the present seldom gives the past a long hearing. The old war-horse cocked his ears. "It is Woffington speaking the epilogue," said Quin. "Oh, she has got the length of their foot, somehow," said a small actress. "And the breadth of their hands, too," said Pomander, waking from a nap.
"I deny that, sir; since his wife will always have enough for both." "I have not observed the lady's brass," said Vane, trembling with passion; "but I observed her talent, and I noticed that whoever attacks her to her face comes badly off." "Well said, sir," answered Quin; "and I wish Kitty here would tell us why she hates Mrs. Woffington, the best-natured woman in the theater?"
Woffington to look over him. She stole archly behind him, and, with a smile on her face read her death warrant. It was a cruel stroke! A gasping sigh broke from her. At this Dr. Bowdler looked up, and to his horror saw the sweet face he had doomed to the tomb looking earnestly and anxiously at him, and very pale and grave.
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