“Oh, Mrs. Lewis would seem to have borrowed a leaf from her husband's book; that is, if it was Mrs. Lewis. Have you asked her if she was at the Gardens?” “How could I ask her that when I had told her that I was going to the playhouse? I was struck with amazement when I saw her in the distance with that man--did I mention that he was a particularly good-looking rascal?” “You did; but why you should have been amazed I am at a loss to know. Mrs. Lewis is a very charming lady, I know.” “You have seen her?” “She was pointed out to me last night.” “Heavens! then it was she whom I saw in the Gardens? I would not have believed it.” “What, are you so unreasonable as to think that 't is a wife's duty to remain at home while her husband amuses himself at Vauxhall?” “Nay, but my wife--” “Is a vastly pretty young creature, sir, whom a hundred men as exacting as her husband, would think it a pleasure to attend at the Gardens or the Pantheon.” “She is, beyond doubt a sweet young creature; but Lord, madam, she is so bound up in her baby that she can give no thought to her husband; and as for other men--did you see the youth who was beside her?” “To be sure I did. He was devoted to her--and so good looking! I give you my word, sir, I never saw anyone with whose looks I was better pleased.” “Zounds, madam, if I had got near him I would have spoilt his good looks, I promise you. Good Lord! to think that my wife--I tried to get close to her, but the pair seemed to vanish mysteriously.” “You would have been better employed looking for me. But we will arrange for another evening, you and I, Mr. Lewis.” “Yes, we will--we will.” There was not much heartiness in the way Mr. Lewis assented; and when the lady tried to get him to fix upon an evening, he excused himself in a feeble way. The day following he walked with her to her house after rehearsal, but he did not think it necessary to make use of any of those phrases of gallantry in which he had previously indulged. He talked a good deal of his wife and her attractions. He had bought her a new gown, he said, and, beyond a doubt, it would be difficult to find a match for her in grace and sweetness. He declined Mrs. Abington's invitation to enter the house. He had to hurry home, he said, having promised to take his wife by water to Greenwich Park. The actress burst into a merry laugh as she stood before the drawing of Sir Harry Wildair. “All men are alike,” she cried. “And all women, too, for that matter. Psha, there are only two people in the world; the name of one is Adam, the name of the other is Eve.” In the course of the afternoon a letter was brought to her. It was from Mrs. Lewis, and it stated that the writer was so much overcome with the recent kindness and attention which her husband had been showing her, she had resolved to confess that she had played a trick upon him, and begged Mrs. Abington's leave to do so. Mrs. Abington immediately sat down and wrote a line to her.