SELBY
Thus far the story
Tallies with what I hoped.
[Aside.]
MRS. FRAMPTON
Wavering between
The doubt of doing wrong, and losing him;
And my dissuasions not o'er hotly urged,
Whom he had flatter'd with the bride-maid's part;—
SELBY
I owe my subtle Widow, then, for this.
[Aside.]
MRS. FRAMPTON
Briefly, we went to church. The ceremony
Scarcely was huddled over, and the ring
Yet cold upon her finger, when they parted—
He to his ship; and we to school got back,
Scarce miss'd, before the dinner-bell could ring.
SELBY
And from that hour—
MRS. FRAMPTON
Nor sight, nor news of him,
For aught that I could hear, she e'er obtain'd.
SELBY
Like to a man that hovers in suspense
Over a letter just receiv'd, on which
The black seal hath impress'd its ominous token,
Whether to open it or no, so I
Suspended stand, whether to press my fate
Further, or check ill curiosity
That tempts me to more loss.—The name, the name
Of this fine youth?
MRS. FRAMPTON
What boots it, if 'twere told?
SELBY
Now, by our loves,
And by my hopes of happier wedlocks, some day
To be accomplish'd, give me his name!
MRS. FRAMPTON
'Tis no such serious matter. It was—Huntingdon.