"I have not had many happy hours, but I remember it was delicious to look
out of my window, and at the same moment smell the honeysuckles and see
my _perfide_ dismissed under a heap of scorn and a pile of luggage he had
brought down for his wedding tour.

"I scampered up to London, laughing all the way; and when I got home, if
I remember right, I cried for two hours. How do you account for that?"

"I hope, madam," said Vane, gravely, "it was remorse for having trifled
with that poor young lady's heart; she had never injured you."

"But, sir, the husband I robbed her of was a brute and a villain in his
little way, and wicked and good-for-nothing, etc. He would have deceived
that poor little hypocrite, as he had this one," pointing to herself.

"That is not what I mean; you inspired her with an attachment, never to
be forgotten. Poor lady, how many sleepless nights has she passed since
then, how many times has she strained her eyes to see her angel lover
returning to her! She will not forget in two years the love it cost you
but two days to inspire. The powerful should be merciful. Ah! I fear you
have no heart."

These words had no sooner burst from Mr. Vane, than he was conscious of
the strange liberty he had taken, and, indeed, the bad taste he had been
guilty of; and this feeling was not lessened when he saw Mrs. Woffington
color up to the temples. Her eyes, too, glittered like basilisks; but she
said nothing, which was remarkable in her, whose tongue was the sword of
a _maitre d'armes._