Mr. S. Yes, madam. Does he not treat your servants as if they were slaves? Does not everybody hate him?
Mrs. L. Oh, how severe you are! My dear son is young: he has pride, to be sure; and that very pride once caused you to say that you would make a great and good man of him.
Mr. S. Yes, I said so; and perhaps I might have succeeded without you—
Mrs. L. Without me! Why, what can you mean?
Mr. S. Do you wish me to be frank with you?
Mrs. L. Certainly. I shall feel obliged to you.
Mr. S. Well; it is you who spoil the effect of all my lessons. It is you who spoil Edward. Excuse me, but I must say it.
Mrs. L. I, Mr. Sherwood! I confess I love him above all other earthly possessions; but that is surely excusable. He is the image of a husband taken away from me in the first year of our marriage. You remember my grief was so excessive that I could not nourish my poor child; and by the advice and entreaties of my relatives and physician, I consented that he should be taken into the country by my humble, faithful friend, Mary Brown, who nursed him for eighteen months with her own child, while I was sent to the West Indies, and afterward to Europe, to recover my health. Edward is all I have.
Mr. S. If you love him so much, send him to boarding school.
Mrs. L. Impossible! I cannot part with him. But I will put him entirely under your control. Only stay, and you shall govern him just as you like.