The elder ones recovered their gravity first, they sat down
breathless, and put their hands to their hearts; they looked at one
another, and then at the goddess who had revived them. Their first
feeling was wonder; were they the same, who, ten minutes ago, were
weeping together? Yes! ten minutes ago they were rayless, joyless,
hopeless. Now the sun was in their hearts, and sorrow and sighing were
fled, as fogs disperse before the god of day. It was magical; could a
mortal play upon the soul of man, woman and child like this? Happy
Woffington! and suppose this was more than half acting, but such acting
as Triplet never dreamed of; and to tell the honest, simple truth, I
myself should not have suspected it; but children are sharper than one
would think, and Alcibiades Triplet told, in after years, that, when they
were all dancing except the lady, he caught sight of her face--and it was
quite, quite grave, and even sad; but, as often as she saw him look at
her, she smiled at him so gayly--he couldn't believe it was the same
face.
If it was art, glory be to such art so worthily applied! and honor to
such creatures as this, that come like sunshine into poor men's houses,
and tune drooping hearts to daylight and hope!
The wonder of these worthy people soon changed to gratitude. Mrs.
Woffington stopped their mouths at once.
"No, no!" cried she; "if you really love me, no scenes; I hate them.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131