Darden's Audrey, with the remark that the writer was an Oxford man and
must know whereof he wrote.

Cibber borrowed the letter, and the next day, in the company of Wilks and
a bottle of Burgundy, compared it with that of Mr. Charles Stagg,--the
latter's correspondent having also brought the matter to the great man's
notice.

"She might offset that pretty jade Fenton at the Fields, eh, Bob?" said
Cibber. "They're of an age. If the town took to her"--

"If her Belvidera made one pretty fellow weep, why not another?" added
Wilks. "Here--where is't he says that, when she went out, for many moments
the pit was silent as the grave--and that then the applause was deep--not
shrill--and very long? 'Gad, if 'tis a Barry come again, and we could lay
hands on her, the house would be made!"

Gibber sighed. "You're dreaming, Bob," he said good-humoredly. "'Twas but
a pack of Virginia planters, noisy over some _belle sauvage_ with a
ranting tongue."

"Men's passions are the same, I take it, in Virginia as in London,"
answered the other. "If the _belle sauvage_ can move to that manner of
applause in one spot of earth, she may do so in another. And here again he
says, 'A dark beauty, with a strange, alluring air ... a voice of melting
sweetness that yet can so express anguish and fear that the blood turns
cold and the heart is wrung to hear it'--Zoons, sir! What would it cost to
buy off this fellow Stagg, and to bring the phoenix overseas?"

"Something more than a lottery ticket," laughed the other, and beckoned to
the drawer. "We'll wait, Bob, until we're sure 'tis a phoenix indeed!
There's a gentleman in Virginia with whom I've some acquaintance, Colonel
William Byrd, that was the colony's agent here. I'll write to him for a
true account. There's time enough."

So thought honest Cibber, and wrote at leisure to his Virginia
acquaintance. It made small difference whether he wrote or refrained from
writing, for he had naught to do with the destinies of Darden's Audrey.
'Twas almost summer before there came an answer to his letter. He showed
it to Wilks in the greenroom, between the acts of "The Provoked Husband."
Mrs. Oldfield read it over their shoulders, and vowed that 'twas a moving
story; nay, more, in her next scene there was a moisture in Lady Townly's
eyes quite out of keeping with the vivacity of her lines.

Darden's Audrey had to do with Virginia, not London; with the winter,
never more the summer. It is not known how