MRS. SWEET. (taking it quickly) Oh, here it is at last—thank you!
SHORT. (aside) How she betrays herself!
MRS. SWEET. I am afraid, Mr. Short, something has put you out.
SHORT. Possibly something has, madam.
Exit, door, R.
MRS. SWEET. (looking after him) What is the matter with your husband, Louisa? He appears to be in the high ropes about something.
MRS. SHORT. (anxiously) I haven’t the smallest idea—he seemed very strange.
MRS. SWEET. He’s an oddity! I could scarcely keep my countenance, although I am by no means in a merry humour. The gentlemen are bewitched, I think—my good man in not in a very amiable frame of mind either. Ah, well, we must leave them alone, and they’ll come round at their leisure, I suppose.
MRS. SHORT. (anxiously) What can be the reason, I wonder?
MRS. SWEET. There, now, you’re going to torment yourself about that. Why don’t you treat these things as I do? You are always in a state of adoration of your husband—to his face, too. It is really very absurd of you, and is quite spoiling him—besides, it is not only bad policy as far are you are concerned, but it does me a positive injury also. Here have I had a regular scene with William, and have been indulged with some charming comparisons in your favour. (she carelessly opens the book, and looks at the pictures) Oh, come, you have succeeded most admirably with my dress. See—look here—(comparing the dress she has on with the one in the book)—it is exactly as you have done it.