Wife.—Nay, this will not be so much a mortification as the natural consequence of other things; for, in order to abate the expense of our living, I resolve to keep less company. I assure you I will lay down all the state of living, as well as the expense of it; and, first, I will keep no visiting days; secondly, I'll drop the greatest part of the acquaintance I have; thirdly, I will lay down our treats and entertainments, and the like needless occasions of expense, and then I shall have no occasion for so many maids.
Husb.—But this, my dear, I say, will make as much noise almost, as if I were actually broke.
Wife.—No, no; leave that part to me.
Husb.—But you may tell me how you will manage it then.
Wife.—Why, I'll go into the country.
Husb.—That will but bring them after you, as it used to do.
Wife.—But I'll put off our usual lodgings at Hampstead, and give out that I am gone to spend the summer in Bedfordshire, at my aunt's, where every body knows I used to go sometimes; they can't come after me thither.
Husb.—But when you return, they will all visit you.
Wife.—Yes, and I will make no return to all those I have a mind to drop, and there's an end of all their acquaintance at once.
Husb.—And what must I do?