WORM (lays aside hat and stick, and seats himself). Well, well—and how then is my future—or past—bride? I hope she'll not be—may I not have the honor of seeing—Miss Louisa?
MRS MILLER. Thanks for inquiries, Mr. Seckertary, but my daughter is not at all proud.
MILLER (angry, jogs her with his elbow). Woman!
MRS MILLER. Sorry she can't have that honor, Mr. Seckertary. My daughter is now at mass.
WORM. I am glad to hear it,—glad to hear it. I shall have in her a pious, Christian wife!
MRS MILLER (smiling in a stupidly affected manner). Yes—but, Mr.
Seckertary——
MILLER (greatly incensed, pulls her ears). Woman!
MRS MILLER. If our family can serve you in any other way—with the greatest pleasure, Mr. Seckertary——
WORM (frowning angrily). In any other way? Much obliged! much obliged!—hm! hm! hm!
MRS MILLER. But, as you yourself must see, Mr. Seckertary——