"Really, sir," replied the astonished actress, "I have not the pleasure of—Why, good heavens, what have they been about in the room?"
"Madam," continued the gentleman, "the room is mine, and I will thank you to explain—"
"Yours!" screamed Mrs. Powell; "surely, sir, this is Number 1?"
"No, indeed, madam," he replied; "this is Number 2; and really, your language is so very extraordinary, that—"
Mrs. Powell, amidst her confusion, could scarcely refrain from laughter. "Ten thousand pardons!" she said, "the coachman must have mistaken the house. I am Mrs. Powell, of Drury Lane, and have just come from performing the Castle Spectre. Fatigue and absence of mind have made me an unconscious intruder. I lodge next door, and I hope you will excuse the unintentional alarm I have occasioned you."
It is almost needless to add, that the gentleman was much relieved by this rational explanation, and participated in the mirth of his nocturnal visitor, as he politely escorted her to the street door. "Good night," said the still laughing actress; "and I hope, sir, in future, I shall pay more attention to Number One!"
Professor Porson.