Sir Charles eagerly picked it up. His eye brightened when he read the short contents. With a self-satisfied smile he mounted the stair. He found in Triplet's house a lady who seemed startled at her late hardihood. She sat with her back to the door, her hood drawn tightly down, and wore an air of trembling consciousness. Sir Charles smiled again. He knew the sex, at least he said so. (It is an assertion often ventured upon.) Accordingly Sir Charles determined to come down from his height, and court nature and innocence in their own tones. This he rightly judged must be the proper course to take with Mrs. Vane. He fell down with mock ardor upon one knee. The supposed Mrs. Vane gave a little squeak. “Dear Mrs. Vane,” cried he, “be not alarmed; loveliness neglected, and simplicity deceived, insure respect as well as adoration. Ah!” (A sigh.) “Oh, get up, sir; do, please. Ah!” (A sigh.) “You sigh, sweetest of human creatures. Ah! why did not a nature like yours fall into hands that would have cherished it as it deserves? Had Heaven bestowed on me this hand, which I take--” “Oh, please, sir--” “With the profoundest respect, would I have abandoned such a treasure for an actress?--a Woffington! as artificial and hollow a jade as ever winked at a side box!” “Is she, sir?” “Notorious, madam. Your husband is the only man in London who does not see through her. How different are you! Even I, who have no taste for actresses, found myself revived, refreshed, ameliorated by that engaging picture of innocence and virtue you drew this morning; yourself the bright and central figure. Ah, dear angel! I remember all your favorites, and envy them their place in your recollections. Your Barbary mare--” “Hen, sir! “Of course I meant hen; and Gray Gillian, his old nurse--” “No, no, no! she is the mare, sir. He! he! he!” “So she is. And Dame--Dame--” “Best!” “Ah! I knew it. You see how I remember them all. And all carry me back to those innocent days which fleet too soon--days when an angel like you might have weaned me from the wicked pleasures of the town, to the placid delights of a rural existence!” “Alas, sir!” “You sigh. It is not yet too late. I am a convert to you; I swear it on this white hand. Ah! how can I relinquish it, pretty fluttering prisoner?” “Oh, please--” “Stay a while.” “No! please, sir--” “While I fetter thee with a worthy manacle.” Sir Charles slipped a diamond ring of great value upon his pretty prisoner. “La, sir, how pretty!” cried innocence. Sir Charles then undertook to prove that the luster of the ring was faint, compared with that of the present wearer's eyes. This did not suit innocence; she hung her head and fluttered, and showed a bashful repugnance to look her admirer in the face. Sir Charles playfully insisted, and Mrs. Woffington was beginning to be a little at a loss, when suddenly voices were heard upon the stairs.