Ernest, shall I make you love--as none of your sex ever loved--with heart, and brain, and breath, and life, and soul ?" With these rapturous words, she poured the soul of love into his eyes; he forgot everything in the world but her; he dissolved in present happiness and vowed himself hers forever.

And she, for her part, bade him but retain her esteem and no woman ever went further in love than she would.

She was a true epicure.

She had learned that passion, vulgar in itself, is god-like when based upon esteem.
This tender scene was interrupted by the call-boy, who brought Mrs.
Woffington a note from the manager, informing her there would be no rehearsal.

This left her at liberty, and she proceeded to take a somewhat abrupt leave of Mr.Vane.He was endeavoring to persuade her to let him be her companion until dinner-time (she was to be his quest), when Pomander entered the room.
Mrs.Woffington, however, was not to be persuaded, she excused herself on the score of a duty which she said she had to perform, and whispering as she passed Pomander, "Keep your own counsel," she went out rather precipitately.
Vane looked slightly disappointed.
Sir Charles, who had returned to see whether (as he fully expected) she had told Vane everything--and who, at that moment, perhaps, would not have been sorry had Mrs.Woffington's lover called him to serious account--finding it was not her intention to make mischief, and not choosing to publish his own defeat, dropped quietly into his old line, and determined to keep the lovers in sight, and play for revenge.
He smiled and said: "My good sir, nobody can hope to monopolize Mrs.
Woffington.