cried poor Triplet, who did not at all like the turn
things were taking, "I give you my word, she does not even know of Sir
Charies's presence here!"

"Who?" cried Vane, furiously. "Man alive! who are you speaking of?"

"Mrs. Vane."

"My wife!" cried Vane, trembling with anger and jealousy. "She here! and
with this man?"

"No!" cried Triplet. "With me, with me! Not with him, of course."

"Boaster!" cried Vane, contemptuously. "But that is a part of your
profession!"

Pomander, irritated, scornfully drew from his pocket the ladies' joint
production, which had fallen at his feet from Mrs. Woffington's hand.
He presented this to Mr. Vane, who took it very uneasily; a mist swam
before his eyes as he read the words: "Alone and unprotected--Mabel
Vane." He had no sooner read these words, than he found he loved his
wife; when he tampered with his treasure, he did not calculate on
another seeking it.

This was Pomander's hour of triumph! He proceeded coolly to explain to
Mr. Vane, that, Mrs. Woffington having deserted him for Mr. Vane,
and Mr. Vane his wife for Mrs. Woffington, the bereaved parties had,
according to custom, agreed to console each other.

This soothing little speech was interrupted by Mr. Vane's sword flashing
suddenly out of its sheath; while that gentleman, white with rage and
jealousy, bade him instantly take to his guard, or be run through the
body like some noxious animal.

Sir Charles drew his sword, and, in spite of Triplet's weak
interference, half a dozen passes were rapidly exchanged, when suddenly
the door of the inner room opened, and a lady in a hood pronounced, in
a voice which was an excellent imitation of Mrs. Vane's, the word,
"False!"

The combatants lowered their points.

"You hear, sir!" cried Triplet.

"You see, sir!" said Pomander.

"Mabel!--wife!" cried Mr. Vane, in agony. "Oh, say this is not true! Oh,
say that letter is a forgery! Say, at least, it was by some treachery
you were lured to this den of iniquity! Oh, speak!"

The lady silently beckoned to some person inside.

"You know I loved you--you know how bitterly I repent the infatuation
that brought me to the feet of another!"

The lady replied not, though Vane's soul appeared to hang upon her
answer. But she threw the door open and there appeared another lady,
the real Mrs. Vane. Mrs. Woffington then threw off her hood, and, to
Sir Charles Pomander's consternation, revealed the features of that
ingenious person