s
sense of their meaning than emotion at the sound of her voice. If this
was the case with me, how much more so, as I could see by side-glances
at his face, was it with Philip! Between the acts, we had little use
for conversation. One of our thoughts, though neither uttered it, was
that, despite the reputation that play-actresses generally bore, a
woman _could_ live virtuously by the profession, and in it, and that
several women since the famous Mrs. Bracegirdle were allowed to have
done so. 'Twas only necessary to look at our Madge, to turn the
possibility in her case into certainty.

When at last the play was ended, we forced our way through the
departing crowd so as to arrive almost with the first upon the scene
of waiting footmen, shouting drivers, turbulent chair-men, clamorous
boys with dim lanterns or flaming torches, and such attendants upon
the nightly emptying of a playhouse. Through this crush we fought our
way, hastened around into a darker street, comparatively quiet and
deserted, and found a door with a feeble lamp over it, which, as a
surly old fellow within told us, served as stage entrance to the
theatre. We crossed the dirty street, and took up our station in the
shadow opposite the door; whence a few actors not required in the
final scene, or not having to make much alteration of attire for the
street, were already emerging, bent first, I suppose, for one or other
of the many taverns or coffee-houses about Covent Garden near at hand.

While we were waiting, two chair-men came with their vehicle and set
it down at one side of the door, and a few boys and women gathered in
the hope of obtaining sixpence by some service of which a player might
perchance be in need on issuing forth. And presently a coach appeared
at the corner of the street, and stopped there, whereupon a gentleman
got out of it, gave the driver and footman some commands, and while
the conveyance remained where it was, approached alone, at a blithe
gait, and took post near us, though more in the light shed by the lamp
over the stage door.

"Gad's life!" I exclaimed, in a whisper.

"What is it?" asked Phil, in a similar voice.

"Falconer!" I replied, ere I had thought.

Philip gazed at the newcomer, who was heedless of our presence. Phil
seemed about to stride forward to him, but reconsidered, and whispered
to me, in a strange tone:

"What can he be doing here, where _she_--? You are sure that's the
man?"

"Yes--but not now--'ti