Both ladies were young, though an expert in such matters, which William Henry was not, might have come to the conclusion that they were not quite so young as they looked. It is true they were neither painted nor powdered; but besides being very fashionably and becomingly dressed, there was that brightness of expression in their lively faces which makes more head against time than all the cosmetics in the world. It is always a matter of surprise among dull people that actresses, even of a high type, should be so popular, and often make such good matches with men of culture and good breeding. The reason is, I think, that if they are not natural, they at least do their best to appear so; they do not stifle nature, as is the habit of some of their sex who are much more highly placed. Languor and studied indifference are not of themselves attractive, and they are suspected, and with reason, of being very convenient cloaks for stupidity. The intelligence of these ladies shone in their eyes, which also twinkled with amusement. They had both had a very hard time of it during one portion of their lives, but it had extinguished neither their good-nature nor their sense of humour. The appearance of William Henry, who looked all youth and simplicity, instead of the snuffy old antiquary whom they had expected to see, tickled them excessively. The fact that he was very good-looking also aroused their interest. If they had come upon business, in short, they remained for pleasure; and the sense of this (for it was unmistakable) embarrassed not a little their involuntary host. By sight he knew both the ladies; the younger was Mrs. Powell, a handsome woman, very tall and elegant, who had of late stepped into a much higher rank of her profession, as, indeed, was clear enough from her having been made the substitute of Mrs. Siddons in the forthcoming tragedy. Just now, however, she was undertaking comedy, and her melodious tones and speaking face made a harmony like ‘the voice and the instrument.’ The other lady was Mrs. Jordan, who, without enjoying so high a dramatic reputation, was a still greater favourite with the public. She, too, was tall and comely, but her beauty was of a simpler type—it would be better described as loveliness. The charms which had carried all before them when she made her fame as ‘The Country Girl’ were more mature, but not less attractive. The world of play-goers was at her feet, the knowledge that an eminent personage had gained her affections, and even, it was said, contracted a private marriage with her, aroused the envy of many a gilded flutterer, and had driven at least one of them to despair. Her tenderness of disposition and generosity to the distressed were notorious, and could be read in her smile. ‘We have ventured to call upon you, Mr. Erin, as you may perhaps guess, with reference to “Vortigern and Rowena,”’ said Mrs. Powell. ‘I am so sorry, but my father is not at home,’ stammered William Henry.