“I do indeed love you!” he assured her, but within himself he could not help wishing that he had not fallen quite so passionately in love with her. “I’ll leave you now, sweet, for your husband will be returning at any moment.” He kissed her hands lightly “ A demain , fairest!”

How she sat through the last act Lavinia could never afterwards imagine. She was longing to be at home⁠—so soon to be home no longer⁠—and quiet. Her head ached now as Richard’s had ached for weeks. More than anything did she want to rest it against her husband’s shoulder, so temptingly near, and to feel his sheltering arms about her. But Dick was in love with Isabella Fanshawe, and she must sit straight and stiff in her chair and smile at the proper places.

At last the play was ended! The curtain descended on the bowing Archer, and the house stamped and clapped its appreciation. The curtain rose again⁠—what! not finished yet? Ah, no! it was but Garrick leading Mrs. Clive forward. Would they never have done?