their best qualifications for, whether of fortune or mind."

I could see the evening was now drawing on by the shadows that thickened the air, and desired he would tell me the hour. He drew forth his watch, and informed me 'twas a quarter after six. On this I rose to go. I judged our interview had been long enough, and that if I wished to cherish his passion, I must be studious not to give him too much of my company. He desired before I quitted him, that I would appoint him another meeting; but I said we could arrange that at Wimpole Street. He then tenderly embraced me, and so I tripped away.

I

LEFT Mr. Bracebridge with my spirits

much fluttered. I was indeed now privileged to cherish the fancies my imagination might chuse to prompt; for he had pronounced upon our future, and we were betrothed. Yet so often as Hope shook her wings, so often did Reason check the premeditated flight. That Mr. Bracebridge was vastly taken with my person I made no doubt; and I also believed, judging from the heat and tenderness of his address, that had his position allowed, he would have made me his wife at once.

But I was not so sure his passion would last. I could not but recall Miss Aston's remark that the flower that blows early, dies early; and tho' I was very willing to admit the power of love that is fed by beauty, yet did I conceive that

I speculate on the fine ladies I see. 205

should Mr. Bracebridge encounter a woman of equal charms with myself, he would have no more scruple in breaking with me, than he had in breaking with Miss Aston.

My appointment with Mr. Boothby was not until half an hour after seven; so that I had leisure to collect my thoughts and compose my countenance, both of which were not a little disordered. I had partly guessed why Mr. Boothby wanted me; but as I could not make sure, I suppressed all speculation, being satisfied that I was possessed of an imagination vigorous enough for any exigency.

I took my ease along Piccadilly, contemplating with various emotions the sights and shows of the streets, which were varied enough to divert a mind less speculative than mine. I particularly amused myself with conjecturing how many of the fine ladies I saw were the architects of their own fortune. I did not doubt but that half of those my eyes rested on owed their positions, their chariots and silks, to artifices which, were they written down in good, strong English, would sink their characters to a greater depth of meanness than even Misanthropy could

conceive. Indeed my observation made me bold to hope that I, who was possessed of fairer charms than the greater number of those females, had as good right as they to anticipate a glistering future.

On reaching the Haymarket, I cast my eyes around, and espied the Apollo, whence I was able to guess my father's lodging. 'Twas a mean, narrow house to the left, hard by the King's Theatre. I knocked, and was admitted by a wench, of whom I inquired if Mr. Boothby was within; but before she could answer, I heard his voice calling, "Step up, step up, Tishy! Show her a light, Moll, you drab!"

I mounted, and presently reached the door of a chamber of which the interior was a cloud of smoke. Through this fog, I perceived Mr. Boothby, and in a chair fronting him, a dirtylooking beau, who, on my entrance, rose in a majestick manner, and, clapping his hand to his breast, made me a low bow.

"Come in, Tishy," says Mr. Boothby. "I hope the quality han't spoilt your taste for Virginia. This is my daughter, Mr. Fitzpatrick," (and to me,) "You must know," says he, " Mr. Fitzpatrick

Mr. Fitzpatrick, the actor.

207

is the celebrated player. It was he who played Captain Plume to my Lavinia's Silvia in the 'Recruiting Officer' at the Aungier-street Theatre in Dublin: a piece of acting which, on Mr. Fitzpatrick's part, as much excelled Mr. Elrington's performance as my Lavinia's surpassed Mrs. Woffington's."

I curtsied to Mr. Fitzpatrick, and was then seized with a violent fit of coughing, which Mr. Fitzpatrick perceiving, he stalks with a tragic air to the window, and threw it open with great solemnity of gesture. The room being presently cleared of the smoke, I was able to see Mr. Boothby, who, catching my eye, slyly winked on me, with a glance at Mr. Fitzpatrick, by which he designed to let me know Mr. Fitzpatrick was not there at his invitation.

Mr. Boothby had called Mr. Fitzpatrick the celebrated actor, but I protest 'twas the first time I had ever heard of Mr. Fitzpatrick's name. I should, however, have had no difficulty in determining his vocation, for his air was very theatrick: he coughed like one who clears his throat for a declamation; he handled his pipe as tho' it was an hanger; he had a slow laborious face which nothing