the heat of the house was too much for this young lady. Mrs. Coates,
alarmed immediately, wished they could get her out into the air, and
regretted that her gentlemen were not with their party to-night--there
could be no getting servants or carriage--what could be done? I eagerly
offered my services, which were accepted, and we conducted the young lady
out. She did not faint; she struggled against it; and it was evident that
there was no affectation in the case; but, on the contrary, an anxious
desire not to give trouble, and a great dread of exposing herself to public
observation. The carriage, as Mrs. Coates repeated twenty times, was
ordered not to come till after the farce, and she kept on hoping and hoping
that Miss Berry would be stout enough to go back to see "The Maid of the
Oaks." Miss Berry did her utmost to support herself; and said she believed
she was now quite well, and could return; but I saw she wished to get away,
and I ran to see if a chair could be had. Lord Mowbray, who had assisted in
conducting the ladies out, now followed me; he saw, and called to one of
his footmen, and despatched him for a chair.

"There, now," said Mowbray, "we may leave the rest to Mrs. Coates, who can
elbow her own way through it. Come back with me--Mrs. Abingdon plays Lady
Bab Lardoon, her favourite character--she is incomparable, and I would not
miss it for the world."

I begged Mowbray to go back, for I could not leave these ladies.

"Well," said he, parting from me, and pursuing his own way, "I see how it
is--I see how it will be. These things are ruled in heaven above, or hell
beneath. 'Tis in vain struggling with one's destiny--so you to your Jewess,
and I to my little Jessica. We shall have her again, I hope, in the farce,
the prettiest creature I ever saw."