Berry another vulgarian produced, but to our surprise, we beheld one who
seemed of a different order of beings from those by whom she was
surrounded. Lord Mowbray and I looked at each other, struck by the same
sentiment, pained for this elegant timid young creature, as we saw her, all
blushing and reluctant, forced by the irresistible fat orderer of all
things to "step up on the seat," to step forward from bench to bench, and
then wait in painful pre-eminence while Issy, and Cecy, and Queeney, and
Miss Coates, settled how they could make room, or which should vacate her
seat in her favour. In spite of the awkwardness of her situation she stood
with such quiet, resigned, yet dignified grace, that ridicule could not
touch her. The moment she was seated with her back to us, and out of
hearing, Lady de Brantefield turned to her son and asked "Who is she?"

"An East Indian, I should guess, by her dark complexion," whispered Lady
Anne to me.

Some feather or lappet intercepted my view of her face, but from the
glimpse I caught of it as she passed, it struck me as uncommonly
interesting, though with a peculiar expression and foreign air--whether she
was handsome or not, though called upon to decide, I could not determine.
But now our attention was fixed on the stage. It was announced to the
audience that, owing to the sudden illness of the actor who was to have
performed the principal part in the comedy advertised for this night, there
was a necessity for changing the play, and they should give in its stead
the Merchant of Venice.

The Merchant of Venice and Macklin the Jew!--Murmurs of discontent from the
ladies in my box, who regretted their sentimental comedy and their silver-
toned Barry, were all lost upon me; I rejoiced that I should see Macklin in
Shylock. Before the performance began, my attention was again caught by the