Woffington in a vase
at Mr. Vane's left hand. He then threw open the windows, which were on
the French plan, and shut within a foot of the lawn.
The musicians in the arbor struck up, and the company, led by Mr. Vane
and Mrs. Woffington, entered the room. And a charming room it
was!--light, lofty, and large--adorned in the French way with white and
gold. The table was an exact oval, and at it everybody could hear what
any one said; an excellent arrangement where ideaed guests only are
admitted-- which is another excellent arrangement, though I see people
don't think so.
The repast was luxurious and elegant. There was no profusion of unmeaning
dishes; each was a _bonne-bouche_--an undeniable delicacy. The glass was
beautiful, the plates silver. The flowers rose like walls from the table;
the plate massive and glorious; rose-water in the hand-glasses; music
crept in from the garden, deliciously subdued into what seemed a natural
sound. A broad stream of southern sun gushed in fiery gold through the
open window, and, like a red-hot rainbow, danced through the stained
glass above it. Existence was a thing to bask in--in such a place, and so
happy an hour!
The guests were Quin, Mrs. Clive, Mr. Cibber, Sir Charles Pomander, Mrs.
Woffington, and Messrs. Soaper and Snarl, critics of the day. This pair,
with wonderful sagacity, had arrived from the street as the haunch came
from the kitchen.
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