And those were the very words uttered by the spokesman of the management, with many humble bows, in the presence of the smiling actress.
“And now you can send for Mrs. Abing-ton,” said Lord Stanley. “She agreed to wait in her chair until this matter was settled.”
“She can take very good care of herself,” said Mrs. Baddeley somewhat curtly. Her fright had now vanished, and she was not disposed to underrate the importance of her victory. She had no particular wish to divide the honours attached to her position with another woman, much less with one who was usually regarded as better-looking than herself. “Mrs. Abington is a little timid, my Lord,” she continued; “she may not find herself quite at home in this assembly.'Tis a monstrous fine place, to be sure; but for my part, I think Vauxhall is richer and in better taste.”
But in spite of the indifference of Mrs. Baddeley, a message was conveyed to Mrs. Abington, who had not left her chair, informing her of the honours which were being done to the lady who had entered the room, and when this news reached her she lost not a moment in hurrying through the porch to the side of her sister actress.
And then a remarkable incident occurred, for the Duchess of Argyll and Lady Ancaster stepped down from their dais and went to the two actresses, offering them hands, and expressing the desire to see them frequently at the assemblies in the rotunda.
The actresses made stage courtesies and returned thanks for the condescension of the great ladies. The cynical ones laughed and shrugged their shoulders once more.
Only Lord Stanley looked chagrined. He perceived that the Duchess was disposed to regard his freak in the most liberal spirit, and he knew that the point of view of the Duchess was the point of view of the Duchess's daughter. He felt rather sad as he reflected upon the laxity of mothers with daughters yet unmarried. Could it be that eligible suitors were growing scarce?
Garrick was highly amused at the little scene that was being played under his eyes; he considered himself a pretty fair judge of comedy, and he was compelled to acknowledge that he had never witnessed any more highly finished exhibition of this form of art.
His friend Goldsmith had not waited at the door for the arrival of Mrs. Abington. He was not wearing any of the gorgeous costumes in which he liked to appear at places of amusement, and so he did not intend to remain in the rotunda for longer than a few minutes; he was only curious to see what would be the result of the bold action of Lord Conway and his friends. But when he was watching the act of condescension on the part of the Duchess and the Countess, and had had his laugh with Burke, he heard a merry voice behind him saying—
“Is Dr. Goldsmith a modern Marius, weeping over the ruin of the Pantheon?”