Enter NANNY.
Nan. Miss Constantia desires to speak to you, Mrs. Betty.
Bet. How is she now? any better, Nanny?
Nan. Something; but very low spirited still. I verily believe it is as you say.
Bet. O! I would take my book oath of it. I can not be deceived in that point, Nanny.—Ay, ay, her business is done, she is certainly breeding, depend upon it.
Nan. Why so the housekeeper thinks too.
Bet. Nay, I know the father—the man that ruined her.
Nan. The deuce you do?
Bet. As sure as you are alive, Nanny;—or I am greatly deceived,—and yet—I can't be deceived neither.—Was not that the cook that came gallopping so hard over the common just now?
Nan. The same:—how very hard he gallopped;—-he has been but three quarters of an hour, he says, coming from Hyde Park Corner.