Horace.
I know nothing about it. You had better settle that with him yourself.
Pringle.
I intend to—presently.
[He stands, nursing his grievance, as Mr. Wackerbath comes down to Horace.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[To Horace.] Those fellows seem to have mistaken their orders. Lucky I noticed it in time! [Mrs. Wackerbath enters from the door below arch.] Ah, here is my wife! Eliza, my dear—[presenting Horace]—our friend, Mr. Ventimore.
Mrs. Wackerbath.
[To Horace, cordially, but with a nervous, fluttered manner.] Oh, how do you do? I am so pleased to meet you! I've been hearing so much about you from my husband. [She goes to sofa on the left, and sits.] It will be so delightful to have a home at last that is really fit to live in!
[Pringle, hearing this, makes a contemptuous ejaculation to himself.