Mrs. Bev. Prithee don't think so.
Char. To-morrow he accounts with Me.
Mrs. Bev. And fairly: I will not doubt it.
Char. Unless a friend has wanted—I have no patience—Sister! sister! we are bound to curse this friend.
Mrs. Bev. My Beverley speaks nobly of him.
Char. And Lewson truly—But I displease you with this talk—To-morrow will instruct us.
Mrs. Bev. Stay till it comes then. I would not think so hardly.
Char. Nor I, but from conviction. Yet we have hope of better days. My uncle is infirm, and of an age that threatens hourly. Or if he lives, You never have offended him; and for distresses so unmerited, he will have pity.
Mrs. Bev. I know it, and am chearful. We have no more to lose; and for what's gone, if it brings prudence home, the purchase is well made,
Char. My Lewson will be kind too. While he and I have life and means, You shall divide with us—And see, he's here.