"Madam!" cried he, with a jaunty manner, "you have inspired a son of Thespis with dreams of eloquence, you have tuned in a higher key a poet's lyre, you have tinged a painter's existence with brighter colors, and--and--" His mouth worked still, but no more artificial words would come.

He sobbed out, "and God in heaven bless you, Mrs.Woffington!" and ran out of the room.
Mrs.Woffington looked after him with interest, for this confirmed her suspicions; but suddenly her expression changed, she wore a look we have not yet seen upon her--it was a half-cunning, half-spiteful look; it was suppressed in a moment, she gave herself to her book, and presently Sir Charles Pomander sauntered into the room.
"Ah! what, Mrs.Woffington here ?" said the diplomat.
"Sir Charles Pomander, I declare!" said the actress.
"I have just parted with an admirer of yours.
"I wish I could part with them all," was the reply.
"A pastoral youth, who means to win La Woffington by agricultural courtship--as shepherds woo in sylvan shades." "With oaten pipe the rustic maids," quoth the Woffington, improvising.
The diplomat laughed, the actress laughed, and said, laughingly: _"Tell me what he says word for word ?"_ "It will only make you laugh." "Well, and am I never to laugh, who provide so many laughs for you all ?" _"C'est juste._ You shall share the general merriment.

Imagine a romantic soul, who adores you for _your simplicity!"_ "My simplicity! Am I so very simple ?" "No," said Sir Charles, monstrous dryly.

"He says you are out of place on the stage, and wants to take the star from its firmament, and put it in a cottage." "I am not a star," replied the Woffington, "I am only a meteor.

And what does the man think I am to do without this (here she imitated applause) from my dear public's thousand hands ?" "You are to have this" (he mimicked a kiss) "from a single mouth, instead." "He is mad! Tell me what more he says.