CHAPTER XI.
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses, False wits, false wives, false virgins, and false spouses .-- Goldsmith's Epilogue to the Comedy of the Sisters.
Madame D'Anville kept her promise--the invitation was duly sent, and accordingly at half past ten to the Rue D'Anjou I drove.
The rooms were already full.

Lord Bennington was standing by the door, and close by him, looking exceedingly distrait, was my old friend Lord Vincent.

They both came towards me at the same moment.

"Strive not," thought I, looking at the stately demeanour of the one, and the humourous expression of countenance in the other--"strive not, Tragedy nor Comedy, to engross a Garrick." I spoke first to Lord Bennington, for I knew he would be the sooner dispatched, and then for the next quarter of an hour found myself overflowed with all the witticisms poor Lord Vincent had for days been obliged to retain.

I made an engagement to dine with him at Very's the next day, and then glided off towards Madame D'Anville.
She was surrounded with men, and talking to each with that vivacity which, in a Frenchwoman, is so graceful, and in an Englishwoman would be so vulgar.