Miss Hughes was quite delighted with the idea, and left the room, after making an appointment for the ensuing evening for that purpose. Such was Mrs. Lewis's tale in brief; after hearing which, Grimaldi, who, not being so well acquainted with the subject, was not so sanguine, went home to bed, but not to sleep: his thoughts wavering between his friend's communication, and the love-letter, of which he could not help thinking that he could still polish up a sentence or two with considerable advantage. The next morning was one of great agitation, and when Mrs. Lewis posted off to the theatre with the important epistle in her pocket, the lover fell into such a tremor of anxiety and suspense, that he was quite unconscious how the day passed: he could stay away from the theatre no longer than five o'clock, at which time he hurried down to ascertain the fate of his letter. "I have not been able to give it yet," said Mrs. Lewis, softly, "but do you just go to the dressing-room; she is there:--only look at her, and guess whether she cares for you or not." He went, and saw Miss Hughes looking very pale, with traces of tears on her face. Six o'clock soon came, and the young lady, hurrying to the room of the confidante, eagerly inquired whether she had got Joe's letter. "I have," said Mrs. Lewis, looking very sly. "Oh! pray let me see it," said Miss Hughes: "I am so anxious to know who the lady is, and so desirous that Joe should be happy." "Why, upon my word," said Mrs. Lewis, "I think I should be doing wrong if I showed it to you, unless Joe said I might." "Wrong!" echoed the young lady; "oh! if you only knew how much I have suffered since last night!" Here she paused for some moments, and added, with some violence of tone and manner, that if that suspense lasted much longer, she should go mad. "Hey-day! Miss Maria," exclaimed Mrs. Lewis,--"mad! Why, surely you cannot have been so imprudent as to have formed an attachment to Joe yourself? But you shall see the letter, as you wish it; there is only one thing you must promise, and that is, to plead Joe's cause with the lady herself." Miss Hughes hesitated, faltered, and at length said, she would try. At this point of the discourse, Mrs. Lewis produced the laboured composition, and placed it in her hand. Miss Hughes raised the letter, glanced at the direction, saw her own name written as plainly as the nervous fingers of its agitated writer would permit, let it fall to the ground, and sunk into the arms of Mrs. Lewis. While this scene was acting in a private room, Grimaldi was acting upon the public stage; and conscious that his hopes depended upon his exertions, he did not suffer his anxieties, great as they were, to interfere with his performance. Towards the conclusion of the first piece he heard somebody enter Mr. Hughes's box--and there sat the object of all his anxiety. "She has got the letter," thought the trembling actor; "she must have decided by this time."