SWEET. (aside) There she is again—arguing the point with me! How different with Short; and yet that great hulky fellow, insensible of his own happiness, sits there stuffing ready to burst himself.
SHORT. (looking up from his knife and fork) Well, have you settled the point?
MRS. SWEET. My dear, Stephen is waiting for orders. (coaxingly) You know I have already given way to you, Willie—it’s now your turn.
SWEET. (aside) I feel that I am yielding, and I can’t help it. (aloud) Well, that’s true—so you did. (aside) Short’s laughing at me; but I mustn’t exact too much from her at once.
MRS. SWEET. Come, come—we shall be keeping them waiting.
SWEET. Ah, to be sure, I didn’t think of that. (apologetically to SHORT, and crossing to him) You that makes all the difference, Short. We have friends waiting for us. Stephen, you can tell the man to take back only two of the horses.
STEPHEN. Yes, sir.
Exit, L. C.
MRS. SWEET. There, that’s like a man of sense; you may give me a kiss, and then get your hat, and let us be off.
SWEET. Certainly, Fanny, that habit of yours is monstrously becoming to you! (kisses her—aside) That’s all very well in its way, but I’m a great ass for my pains notwithstanding.