door almost knocked him
off his legs. "There ye go again," said he, and he went angrily to the
door. This time it was Hunsdon, who was in a desperate hurry to see his
master.

"Where is Sir Charles Pomander, my honest fellow?" said he.

"In the garden, my Jack-a-dandy!" said Burdock, furiously.

("Honest fellow," among servants, implies some moral inferiority.)

In the garden went Hunsdon. His master--all whose senses were playing
sentinel--saw him, and left the company to meet him.

"She is in the house, sir."

"Good! Go--vanish!"

Sir Charles looked into the banquet-room; the haunch was being placed on
the table. He returned with the information. He burned to bring husband
and wife together; he counted each second lost that postponed this (to
him) thrilling joy. Oh, how happy he was!--happier than the serpent when
he saw Eve's white teeth really strike into the apple!

"Shall we pay respect to this haunch, Mr. Quin?" said Vane, gayly.

"If you please, sir," said Quin, gravely. Colander ran down a by-path
with an immense bouquet, which he arranged for Mrs. Woffington in a vase
at Mr. Vane's left hand. He then threw open the windows, which were on
the French plan, and shut within a foot of the lawn.

The musicians in the arbor struck up, and the company, led by Mr.
Vane and Mrs. Woffington, entered the room. And a charming room it
was!--light, lofty, and large--adorned in the French way with white and
gold. The table was an exact oval, and at it everybody could hear what
any one said; an excellent arrangement where ideaed guests only are
admitted--which is another excellent arrangement, though I see people
don't think so.

The repast was luxurious and elegant. There was no profusion of
unmeaning dishes; each was a _bonne-bouche_--an undeniable delicacy. The
glass was beautiful, the plates silver. The flowers rose like walls
from the table; the plate massive and glorious; rose-water in the
hand-glasses; music crept in from the garden, deliciously subdued into
what seemed a natural sound. A broad stream of southern sun gushed in
fiery gold through the open window, and, like a red-hot rainbow, danced
through the stained glass above it. Existence was a thing to bask in--in
such a place, and so happy an hour!

The guests were Quin, Mrs. Clive, Mr. Cibber, Sir Charles Pomander, Mrs.
Woffington, and Messrs. Soaper and Snarl, critics of the day. This pair,
with wonderful sagacity, had arrived from the street as th