what a lesson in the human heart does good acting teach us! Mark that
glancing eye--that heaving breast--that burst of passion--that agonised
voice: the spectators are in tears! The woman's whole soul is in her
child! Not a bit of it! She feels no more than the boards we tread on:
she is probably thinking of the lively supper we shall have; and when she
comes off the stage, she will cry, 'Did I not act it well?'"

"Nay," said Radclyffe, "she probably feels while she depicts the feeling."

"Not she: years ago she told me the whole science of acting was trick; and
trick--trick--trick it is, on the stage or off. The noble art of
oratory--(noble forsooth!)--is just the same: philosophy, poetry--all, all
hypocrisy. 'Damn the moon!' said B---- to me, as we once stood gazing on
it at Venice; 'it always gives me the ague: but I have described it well
in my poetry, Godolphin--eh?'"

"But--," began Radclyffe.

"But me no buts," interrupted Godolphin, with the playful pertinacity
which he made so graceful: "you are younger than I am; when you have lived
as long, you shall have a right to contradict my system--not before."

Godolphin joined the supper party. Like Godolphin's, Fanny's life was the
pursuit of pleasure: she lavished on it, in proportion to her means, the
same cost and expense, though she wanted the same taste and refinement.
Generous and profuse, like all her tribe--like all persons who win money
easily--she was charitable to all and luxurious in herself. The supper
was attended by four male guests--Godolphin, Saville, Lord Falconer; and
Mr. Windsor.