Ennui. In fact—Why fatal?
Nev. Because it is the source of every mischief.—While she maintains her power over him, I have no hope of love or fortune:—When my father died, he left his estate to my brother, relying on my lord providing for me—and now, how he deserts me!—and all owing to the artifices of an insidious woman.
Ennui. I've an idea, I comprehend her motive—she loves you.
Nev. Yes, 'tis too plain—and, because I would not listen to her advances, she has ruined me in my uncle's opinion, and degraded me in Louisa's;—but I will see Miss Courtney herself—I will hear my doom from her own mouth; and if she avoids me, I will leave her, and this country, for ever.
Enter Peter.
Peter. A letter, sir.
Nev. Without direction!—What can it mean?
Peter. Sir, 'tis from Lady Waitfor't.—The servant, who brought it, said, her ladyship had reasons for not directing it, which she would explain to you when she saw you.
[Exit.
Nev. Oh, the old stratagem:—as it is not directed, she may swear it was designed for another person.