MRS. PENDLETON. Ah! now, Mr. Timbrell—your grandchild.
MARY. He hasn’t seen him.
MRS. PENDLETON. Not seen him! Ah! Mr. Timbrell, you’re the one that’s to blame.
TIMBRELL. Really, madam, I can’t discuss the matter with you. I’ve said what I mean to do.
EDGAR. It’s about time this dinner was ready, isn’t it?
LEONARD. And to think that all this bother is through a confounded chimney! We might have been comfortably at table, with incomes secure. What do you think of the Governor’s proposal, Edgar—as a business man?
EDGAR. Don’t talk to me.
LEONARD. No, brother.
TIMBRELL. [Bouncing from the chair on which he had seated himself.] I tell you I will not stand—
[Enter maidservant.]