He bowed with his hat in his hand to the group, and hastened away with an air of mystery.
“What does he mean?” asked Reynolds.
“That is what I have been asking myself,” replied Garrick. “By heavens, I have it!” he cried after a pause of a few moments. “I have heard rumours of what some of our young bloods swore to do, since the managers of the Pantheon, in an outburst of virtuous indignation at the orgies of Vauxhall and Ranelagh, issued their sheet of regulations prohibiting the entrance of actresses to their rotunda. Lord Conway, I heard, was the leader of the scheme, and it seems that this young Stanley is also one of the plot. Let us hasten to witness the sport. I would not miss being-present for the world.”
“I am not so eager,” said Sir Joshua. “I have my work to engage me early in the morning, and I have lost all interest in such follies as seem to be on foot.”
“I have not, thank heaven!” cried Garrick; “nor has Dr. Goldsmith, I'll swear. As for Burke—well, being a member of Parliament, he is a seasoned rascal; and so good-night to you, good Mr. President.”
“We need a frolic,” cried Goldsmith. “God knows we had a dull enough dinner at the Crown and Anchor.”
“An Irishman and a frolic are like—well, let us say like Lady Betty and your macaw, Sir Joshua,” said Burke. “They go together very naturally.”