“A play,” he said; “that is really good news; but the ‘Merchant of Venice,’ that is not one of my acquaintances.”
“Ah! you young men are wrong in giving up Will. Shakespeare for the Steeles, Addisons, and Vanbrughs. Mr. Addison’s essays are very pleasant and entertaining reading, and surely there never was a finer gentleman than Sir Roger; but in the drama Will. Shakespeare distances him all to nothing.”
“Let us go to the play,” said Henrietta.
“Oh, yes,” said Clara.
The old gentleman tenderly smoothed the bright golden hair.
“Certainly, if you wish it,” he said.
“And may I request permission to accompany the party, ladies,” said Mr. Effingham, languidly.
“How modest,” said Henrietta, laughing; “certainly you may go, sir. You will tell us when to hiss or applaud, you know, as you are just from London.”
“What a quick tongue she has,” said Mr. Lee, fondly; well, we will all go, and see what the Virginia company of comedians is like; not much I fear.”
At the appointed day the young man appears at Mr. Lee’s mansion and the young ladies come down to meet him, the elder, Henrietta, being described as “radiant in a dress of surpassing elegance—flowered satin, yellow lace, jewels, powdered hair, with pendants and rich furbelows,—the bright beauty of her laughing face assorting well with her flashing and glittering costume,” while the costume of the younger sister was more subdued, as her manner was more quiet.