The
mortified actress gulled by a novice, the wronged and insulted woman, had
but two thoughts; to defeat her rival--to be revenged on her false lover.
More than one sharp spasm passed over her features before she could
master them, and then she became smiles above, wormwood and red-hot steel
below--all in less than half a minute.
As for the others, looks of keen intelligence passed between them, and
they watched with burning interest for the _denouement._ That interest
was stronger than their sense of the comicality of all this (for the
humorous view of what passes before our eyes comes upon cool reflection,
not often at the time).
Sir Charles, indeed, who had foreseen some of this, wore a demure look,
belied by his glittering eye. He offered Cibber snuff, and the two
satirical animals grinned over the snuff-box, like a malicious old ape
and a mischievous young monkey.
The newcomer was charming; she was above the middle height, of a full,
though graceful figure, her abundant, glossy, bright brown hair glittered
here and there like gold in the light; she had a snowy brow, eyes of the
profoundest blue, a cheek like a peach, and a face beaming candor and
goodness; the character of her countenance resembled "the Queen of the
May," in Mr. Leslie's famous picture, more than any face of our day I can
call to mind.
"You are not angry with me for this silly trick?" said she, with some
misgiving.
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