this was not an ordinary man, this was a diplomatist. First of all, he
said to himself: "What is this man doing here?" Then he soon discovered
this man must be in love with some actress; then it became his business
to know who she was; this, too, soon betrayed itself. Then it became more
than ever Sir Charles's business to know whether Mrs. Woffington returned
the sentiment; and here his penetration was at fault, for the moment; he
determined, however, to discover.

Mr. Vane then received his friend, all unsuspicious how that friend had
been skinning him with his eyes for some time past. After the usual
compliments had passed between two gentlemen who had been hand and glove
for a month and forgotten each other's existence for two years, Sir
Charles, still keeping in view his design, said:

"Let us go upon the stage." The fourth act had just concluded.

"Go upon the stage!" said Mr. Vane; "what, where she--I mean among the
actors?"

"Yes; come into the green-room. There are one or two people of reputation
there; I will introduce you to them, if you please."

"Go upon the stage!" why, if it had been proposed to him to go to heaven
he would not have been more astonished. He was too astonished at first to
realize the full beauty of the arrangement, by means of which he might be
within a yard of Mrs. Woffington, might feel her dress rustle past him,
might speak to her, might drink her voice fresh from her lips almost
before it mingled with meaner air. Silence gives consent, and Mr. Vane,
though he thought a great deal, said nothing; so Pomander rose, and they
left the boxes together. He led the way to the stage door, which was