MRS. BOBBINS. Augustus! Mr. Bobbins! What again! You exasperate me! No, sir, she shall not stay another day, if I have to run over half London to find her substitute.
AUGUS. Very well, my dear. You are fond of exercise.
MRS. BOBBINS. This is too much to put up with!—past all bearing! I’ll be even with you for this, depend upon it. No, no, you needn’t think to gain your ends, Mr. Bobbins—I’ll go round to all the tradespeople this very minute. (putting on her bonnet and shawl, which are upon table, R.) I’ll soon put a stop to this! I’ll soon put a stop to this!
Exit, in a passion, C. to L.
AUGUS. What a singular woman Constantia is when she once takes an idea into her head. No human argument now would ever persuade her that I am not violently smitten with her own maid. Ridiculous notion! ha, ha! and the best of the joke is—for reasons of a strictly private nature, I rather encourage the idea—commit myself with Rebecca! No, no—I look a little higher than that! The interesting object of my secret intentions, is in no way beneath me—quite the reverse—she is above me by a flight of stairs. It is really quite distressing, to think so charming a woman as Mrs. Duval, should be obliged to occupy a two pair back; but then, how tastefully she sets off her room! Clever creature! she can turn her hand to anything—Berlin wool, potichomania, crotchet, embroidery— By the way, I begin to suspect that name of hers, Duval, is only assumed—she doesn’t look to me at all like a Frenchwoman—and the only approach to anything in the shape of a husband I have been able to discover, is this morning gown, which I found one morning over a chair back in her room, and which, in a moment of pecuniary pressure, I induced her to sell me for about four times its value. It shows the fall in my back to some advantage, but it’s an uncommonly tight fit, although I have had it let out twice since I bought it. I wonder how she came by it? No matter—I’m convinced I have no rival—she is evidently pleased with my attentions, and if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Bobbins’s ill-timed return from the country, I should—(crosses to L., sees MRS. BROWN at C. D.) By Jove! here she is. It’s lucky that my wife’s not at home.
(crosses to R.
Enter MRS. BROWN, C. from R., goes down, L.
MRS. BROWN. (seeing BOBBINS, R.) Ah, Mr. Bobbins! Good morning.
AUGUS. (R.) Good morning to you, my dear Mrs. Duval. This is an honour! Dare I venture to hope your visit is to me?