“It was no error, Mrs. Woffington.”
“What! you would let all the world know that Mr. Garrick's opinion was that you stood in need of a showy gown to conceal the defects of your art?”
“You are insolent, Mrs. Woffington!”
“Nay, nay, my dear ladies; let's have no more of this recrimination over a question of rags. It is unworthy of you,” said Garrick.
“I feel that, sir, and so I mean to wear the brocade,” said Mrs. Woffington. “Good lud, Mr. Garrick, what were you thinking of when you assigned to the poor victim of the murderess in the tragedy the crimson robe which was plainly meant to be in keeping with the gory intentions of her rival?”
“Surely I did not commit that mistake,” said Garrick. “Heavens! where can my thoughts have been? Miss Hoppner, madam, I am greatly vexed—”
“Let her take her brocade,” cried Miss Hoppner, looking with indignant eyes, first at the smiling Peggy, and then at Garrick, who was acting the part of a distracted man to perfection. “Let her wear it and see if it will hide the shortcomings of her complexion from the eyes of the playgoers.”
She walked away with a sniff before Peggy could deliver any reply.
III
Pray what trick have you on your mind now? asked Garrick, when he was alone with Peggy. “What was that caprice of yours?”