Mrs. Woffington came instantly from her frame, and stood before them in a despairing attitude, with one hand upon her brow. For a single moment her impulse was to fly from the apartment, so ashamed was she of having listened, and of meeting her rival in this way; but she conquered this feeling, and, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vane too had recovered some composure, she said to Triplet, in a low but firm voice: “Leave us, sir. No living creature must hear what I say to this lady!” Triplet remonstrated, but Mrs. Vane said, faintly: “Oh, yes, good Mr. Triplet, I would rather you left me.” Triplet, full of misgivings, was obliged to retire. “Be composed, ladies,” said he piteously. “Neither of you could help it;” and so he entered his inner room, where he sat and listened nervously, for he could not shake off all apprehension of a personal encounter. In the room he had left there was a long, uneasy silence. Both ladies were greatly embarrassed. It was the actress who spoke first. All trace of emotion, except a certain pallor, was driven from her face. She spoke with very marked courtesy, but in tones that seemed to freeze as they dropped one by one from her mouth. “I trust, madam, you will do me the justice to believe I did not know Mr. Vane was married?” “I am sure of it!” said Mabel, warmly. “I feel you are as good as you are gifted.” “Mrs. Vane, I am not!” said the other, almost sternly. “You are deceived!” “Then Heaven have mercy on me! No! I am not deceived, you pitied me. You speak coldly now; but I know your face and your heart--you pity me!” “I do respect, admire, and pity you,” said Mrs. Woffington, sadly; “and I could consent nevermore to communicate with your--with Mr. Vane.” “Ah!” cried Mabel; “Heaven will bless you! But will you give me back his heart?” “How can I do that?” said Mrs. Woffington, uneasily; she had not bargained for this. “The magnet can repel as well as attract. Can you not break your own spell? What will his presence be to me, if his heart remain behind?” “You ask much of me.” “Alas! I do.” “But I could do even this.” She paused for breath. “And perhaps if you, who have not only touched my heart, but won my respect, were to say to me, 'Do so,' I should do it.” Again she paused, and spoke with difficulty; for the bitter struggle took away her breath. “Mr. Vane thinks better of me than I deserve. I have--only--to make him believe me--worthless--worse than I am--and he will drop me like an adder--and love you better, far better--for having known--admired--and despised Margaret Woffington.” “Oh!” cried Mabel, “I shall bless you every hour of my life.” Her countenance brightened into rapture at the picture, and Mrs. Woffington's darkened with bitterness as she watched her. But Mabel reflected. “Rob you of your good name?” said this pure creature. “Ah, Mabel Vane! you think but of yourself.”