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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Peg Woffington"

Tell
these brats to kiss me, and let me go. I must sit for my picture after
dinner; it is a long way to Bloomsbury Square."
The children needed no bidding; they clustered round her, and poured out
their innocent hearts as children only do.
"I shall pray for you after father and mother," said one.
"I shall pray for you after daily bread," said Lucy, "because we were
_tho_ hungry till you came!"
"My poor children!" cried Woffington, and hard to grown-up actors, as she
called us, but sensitive to children, she fairly melted as she embraced
them.
It was at this precise juncture that the door was unceremoniously opened,
and the two gentlemen burst upon the scene!
My reader now guesses whom Sir Charles Pomander surprised more than he
did Mrs. Woffington. He could not for the life of him comprehend what she
was doing, and what was her ulterior object. The _nil admirari_ of the
fine gentleman deserted him, and he gazed open-mouthed, like the veriest
chaw-bacon.
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.


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