“Come, Mr. Garrick, tell me plainly what you want me to do for you in this business. What, sir, are we not on sufficiently friendly terms for plain speaking? Tell me all that is on your mind, sir?”
Garrick paused for some moments, and then laughed in a somewhat constrained way, before walking on by the side of his friend.
“Come, sir,” continued Mrs. Woffington. “Be as plain as you please. I am not prone to take offence.”
“We'll talk of that anon,” said Garrick. “Perhaps Mr. Macklin will be able to give us his helpful counsel in this business.”
“Psha!” said Peggy. “Mr. Macklin could never be brought to see with your eyes.”
“Then he will be all the better able to give us the result of Mr. Macklin's observation,” said Garrick.
“Ay, but that is not what you want, Davy,” said Mrs. Woffington, with a pretty loud laugh. “No one ever calls in a counsellor with the hope of obtaining an unprejudiced opinion; the only counsellor in whom we have confidence is he who corroborates our own views.”
II
T hey had reached their house. It was No. 6 Bow Street, and it was presided over by Macklin—Garrick and Mrs. Woffington doing the housekeeping on alternate months.
Visitors preferred calling during Peggy's month, as the visitor, who was now greeted by David Garrick in the parlour, testified in the presence of his biographer years after; for it was Samuel Johnson who awaited the return from rehearsal of his Lichfield pupil, David Garrick.