Suppose it was a love letter from his sweetheart? She blushed at the
idea. Then curiosity was roused. Her fingers crept towards the papers,
for there were two. One ran thus:--


"The Duke's Theatre,
"Lincoln's Inn Fields.
"SIR,--

"I have read your play and herewith return it. I doubt not it has
merit but it will not suit me.

"I am your obedient humble servant,

Lancelot Vane, Esq. "JOHN RICH."


"Poor fellow--so he writes plays. How aggravating to have such a rude
letter. 'Obedient--humble--servant,' forsooth! I hate that John Rich.
He's a bear."

Then Lavinia unfolded the second letter. It was more depressing than the
first.

"Lancelot Vane, 3, Fletcher's Court, Grub Street," Lavinia read;
"Sir,--I give you notiss that if you do nott pay me my nine weeks' rent
you owe me by twelve o'clock to-morrer I shall at wunce take possesshun
and have innstruckted the sheriff's offiser in ackordance therewith.
Yours respeckfully, Solomon Moggs."