Doug. Aw—no, no, your youngest. (Aside.) Does he take me for a woman's wights convention?
Mr. G. If my daughter is agreeable, then, you have my full consent. (Aside.) How little he knows what an expensive luxury he is about to indulge in.
Doug. (rising). Aw—thank you, I thought it was best to see you first, you know, and now I will not twespass on your valuable time any longer. Good morning.
Mr. G. (rising and shaking hands with him). Good morning, and I wish you success. (Exit Doughlass, L. U. E.) Ay, that I do with all my heart. One burden less. Oh, if that note was only paid! (Exit into anteroom, R. 1 E.)
(Enter Doughlass, L. U. E.)
Doug. I beg pardon, but I believe I left my glove—aw—the old man has gone. Well, no matter, I'll just find my glove and depart. (Looks for glove.)
(Enter Jennie, L. U. E.)
Jen. If you please, sir—oh!
Doug. (aside, looking at her through eye-glass). Always thought she was devilish pwetty. (Aloud) Aw—do not be afwaid, my dear.
Jen. (coming down L.). Afraid of you? Oh, no, indeed, sir!