“You mean that you will—”
“Go away now, like a good child. Ask no more questions till Monday night.”
She went away, and on the Monday night she was dressed to go to Vauxhall, when the room in which she was waiting was entered by an extremely handsome and splendidly dressed young gentleman, who had all the swagger of one of the beaux of the period, as he advanced to her smirking.
“I protest, sir,” cried Mrs. Lewis, starting up; “you have made a mistake. I have not the honour of your acquaintance.”
“'Fore Gad, my charmer, you assume the airs of an innocent miss with amazing ability,” smirked her visitor. “My name, madam, is Wildair, at your service, and I would fain hope that you will accept my poor escort to the Gardens.”
A puzzled look was on Mrs. Lewis's face as the gallant began to speak, but gradually this expression disappeared. She clapped her hands together girlishly, and then threw herself back on a chair, roaring with laughter.
II.
T he next day at the playhouse Mrs. Abington met Lee Lewis with a reproachful look. She had written to him on the Saturday, expressing her regret that she could not go with him to the Gardens, but assuring him that she would be there, and charging him to look for her.
“I thought you would believe it worth your while to keep an eye open for me last night, sir,” she now said. “But I dare say you found some metal more attractive elsewhere.”
“By heavens! I waited for you for an hour on the lantern walk, but you did not appear,” cried Lewis.