"Who is she?" cried Sir Charles.
"Wife of a Cheshire squire, Sir Charles," was the reply.
"His name? Whither goes she in town?"
"Her name is Mrs. Vane, Sir Charles. She is going to her husband."
"Curious!" cried Sir Charles. "I wish she had no husband. No! I wish she
came from Shropshire," and he chuckled at the notion.
"If you please, Sir Charles," said the man, "is not Willoughby in
Cheshire?"
"No," cried his master; "it is in Shropshire. What! eh! Five guineas for
you if that lady comes from Willoughby in Shropshire.
"That is where she comes from then, Sir Charles, and she is going to
Bloomsbury Square."
"How long have they been married?"
"Not more than twelve months, Sir Charles."
Pomander gave the man ten guineas instead of five on the spot.
Reader, it was too true! Mr. Vane--the good, the decent, the
churchgoer--Mr. Vane, whom Mrs. Woffington had selected to improve her
morals--Mr. Vane was a married man!
CHAPTER IX.
As soon as Pomander had drawn his breath and realized this discovery, he
darted upstairs, and with all the demure calmness he could assume, told
Mr. Vane, whom he met descending, that he was happy to find his
engagements permitted him to join the party in Bloomsbury Square. He then
flung himself upon his servant's horse.
Like Iago, he saw the indistinct outline of a glorious and a most
malicious plot; it lay crude in his head and heart at present; thus much
he saw clearly, that, if he could time Mrs.
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