“His wife! Are wives' hearts the only hearts that throb, and burn, and break? His wife must defend herself. It is not from me that mercy can come to her, nor from her to me. I loathe her, and I shall not forget that you took her part. Only, if you are her friend, take my advice, don't you assist her. I shall defeat her without that. Let her fight _her_ battle, and _I_ mine. “Ah, madam! she cannot fight; she is a dove.” “You are a fool! What do you know about women? You were with her five minutes, and she turned you inside out. My life on it, while I have been fooling my time here, she is in the field, with all the arts of our sex, simplicity at the head of them.” Triplet was making a futile endeavor to convert her to his view of her rival, when a knock suddenly came to his door. A slovenly girl, one of his own neighbors, brought him a bit of paper, with a line written in pencil. “'Tis from a lady, who waits below,” said the girl. Mrs. Woffington went again to the window, and there she saw getting out of a coach, and attended by James Burdock, Mabel Vane, who had sent up her name on the back of an old letter. “What shall I do?” said Triplet, as soon as he recovered the first stunning effects of this _contretemps._ To his astonishment, Mrs. Woffington bade the girl show the lady upstairs. The girl went down on this errand. “But _you_ are here,” remonstrated Triplet. “Oh, to be sure, you can go into the other room. There is plenty of time to avoid her,” said Triplet, in a very natural tremor. “This way, madam!” Mrs. Woffington stood in the middle of the room like a statue. “What does she come here for?” said she, sternly. “You have not told me all.” “I don't know,” cried poor Triplet, in dismay; “and I think the Devil brings her here to confound me. For Heaven's sake, retire! What will become of us all? There will be murder, I know there will!” To his horror, Mrs. Woffington would not move. “You are on her side,” said she slowly, with a concentration of spite and suspicion. She looked frightful at this moment. “All the better for me,” added she, with a world of female malignity. Triplet could not make head against this blow; he gasped, and pointed piteously to the inner door. “No; I will know two things: the course she means to take, and the terms you two are upon.” By this time Mrs. Vane's light foot was heard on the stair, and Triplet sank into a chair. “They will tear one another to pieces,” said he. A tap came to the door. He looked fearfully round for the woman whom jealousy had so speedily turned from an angel to a fiend; and saw with dismay that she had actually had the hardihood to slip round and enter the picture again. She had not quite arranged herself when her rival knocked.