Cad. Clementina, my niece, let her come in, Mrs Jellybags; I feel I’m going fast,—I may as well take leave of every body.
Jel. (sobbing.) Oh dear! oh dear! You may come in, Miss.
Enter Clementina.
Clem. My dear uncle, why have you, for so many days, refused me admittance? Every morning have I asked to be allowed to come and nurse you, and for more than three weeks have received a positive refusal.
Cad. Refusal! Why I never had a message from you.
Clem. No message! Every day I have sent, and every day did Mrs Jellybags reply that you would not see me.
Cad. (faintly.) Mrs Jellybags,—Mrs Jellybags—
Clem. Yes, uncle; it is true as I stand here;—and my brother Thomas has called almost every day, and John every Sunday, the only day he can leave the banking-house; and cousins William and James have both been here very often.
Cad. Nobody told me! I thought every one had forgotten me. Why was I not informed, Mrs Jellybags?
Jel. (in a rage.) Why, you little, story-telling creature, coming here to impose upon your good uncle! You know that no one has been here—not a soul;—and as for yourself, you have been too busy looking after a certain gentleman ever to think of your poor uncle;—that you have;—taking advantage of his illness to behave in so indecorous a manner. I would have told him every thing, but I was afraid of making him worse.