open-mouthed, like the
veriest chaw-bacon.

The actress, unable to extricate herself in a moment from the children,
stood there like Charity, in New College Chapel, while the mother kissed
her hand, and the father quietly dropped tears, like some leaden water
god in the middle of a fountain.

Vane turned hot and cold by turns, with joy and shame. Pomander's genius
came to the aid of their embarrassment.

"Follow my lead," whispered he. "What! Mrs. Woffington here!" cried he;
then he advanced business-like to Triplet. "We are aware, sir, of your
various talents, and are come to make a demand on them. I, sir, am the
unfortunate possessor of frescoes; time has impaired their indelicacy,
no man can restore it as you can."

"Augh! sir! sir!" said the gratified goose.

"My Cupid's bows are walking-sticks, and my Venus's noses are snubbed.
You must set all that straight on your own terms, Mr. Triplet."

"In a single morning all shall bloom again, sir! Whom would you wish
them to resemble in feature? I have lately been praised for my skill in
portraiture." (Glancing at Mrs. Woffington.)

"Oh!" said Pomander, carelessly, "you need not go far for Venuses and
Cupids, I suppose?"

"I see, sir; my wife and children. Thank you, sir; thank you."

Pomander stared; Mrs. Woffington laughed.

Now it was Vane's turn.

"Let me have a copy of verses from your pen. I shall have five pounds at
your disposal for them."

"The world has found me out!" thought Triplet, blinded by his vanity.--

"The subject, sir?"

"No matter," said Vane--"no matter."

"Oh, of course it does not matter to me," said Triplet, with some
_hauteur,_ and assuming poetic omnipotence. "Only, when one knows the
subject, one can sometimes make the verses apply better."

"Write then, since you are so confident, upon Mrs. Woffington."

"Ah! that is a subject! They shall be ready in an hour!" cried Trip,
in whose imagination Parnassus was a raised counter. He had in a teacup
some lines on Venus and Mars which he could not but feel would fit
Thalia and Croesus, or Genius and Envy, equally well. "In one hour,
sir," said Triplet, "the article shall be executed, and delivered at
your house."

Mrs. Woffington called Vane to her, with an engaging smile. A month ago
he would have hoped she would not have penetrated him and Sir Charles;
but he knew her better now. He came trembling.

"Look me in the face, Mr. Vane," said she, gently, but firmly.

"I cannot!"