"
Imagine the effect of this on a romantic disposition like Mr. Vane's.
He told her how glad he was that she could distinguish his features amid
the crowd of her admirers; he confessed he had been mortified when he
found himself, as he thought, entirely a stranger to her.
She interrupted him.
"Do you know your friend Sir Charles Pomander? No! I am almost sure you
do; well, he is a man I do not like. He is deceitful, besides he is a
wicked man. There, to be plain with you, he was watching me all that
night, the first time you came here, and, because I saw he was watching
me I would not know who you were, nor anything about you."
"But you looked as if you had never seen me before."
"Of course I did, when I had made up my mind to," said the actress,
naively.
"Sir Charles has left London for a fortnight, so, if he is the only
obstacle, I hope you will know me every night."
"Why, you sent me no flowers yesterday or to-day."
"But I will to-morrow."
"Then I am sure I shall know your face again; good-by. Won't you see me
in the last act, and tell me how ill I do it?"
"Oh, yes!" and he hurried to his box, and so the actress secured one pair
of hands for her last act.
He returned to the green-room, but she did not revisit that verdant
bower. The next night, after the usual compliments, she said to him,
looking down with a sweet, engaging air:
"I sent a messenger into the country to know about that lady.
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