Wife.—No, no; she is a lady of too much sense, to allow us to suggest it.
Husb.—And why did he not let her have some notice of it?
Wife.—Why, he makes the same dull excuse you speak of; he could not bear to speak to her of it, and it looked so unkind to do any thing to straiten her, he could not do it, it would break his heart, and the like; and now he has broke her heart.
Husb.—I know it is hard to break in upon one's wife in such a manner, where there is any true kindness and affection; but—
Wife.—But! but what? Were there really a true kindness and affection, as is the pretence, it would be quite otherwise; he would not break his own heart, forsooth, but chose rather to break his wife's heart! he could not be so cruel to tell her of it, and therefore left her to be cruelly and villanously insulted, as she was, by the bailiffs and creditors. Was that his kindness to her?
Husb.—Well, my dear, I have not brought you to that, I hope.
Wife.—No, my dear, and I hope you will not; however, you shall not say I will not do every thing I can to prevent it; and, if it lies on my side, you are safe.
Husb.—What will you do to prevent it? Come, let's see, what can you do?
Wife.—Why, first, I keep five maids, you see, and a footman; I shall immediately give three of my maids warning, and the fellow also, and save you that part of the expense.
Husb.—How can you do that?—you can't do your business.