[Both rise.
Sir Simon. Many people of rank read in the same way, my lord. And your lordship will receive the forty thousand pounds, I am to pay you, by deputy also, I suppose.
Lord Fitz. I seldom swear, Sir Simon; but, damn me if I will.
Sir Simon. I believe you are right. Yet there are but two reasons for not trusting an attorney with your money:—one is, when you don't know him very well; and the other is, when you do.—And now, since the marriage is concluded, as I may say, in the families, may I take the liberty to ask, my lord, what sort of a wife my son Frank may expect in Lady Caroline? Frank is rather of a grave, domestic turn: Lady Caroline, it seems, has passed the three last winters in London. Did her ladyship enter into all the spirit of the first circles?
Lord Fitz. She was as gay as a lark, Sir Simon.
Sir Simon. Was she like the lark in her hours, my lord?
Lord Fitz. A great deal more like the owl, Sir Simon.
Sir Simon. I thought so. Frank's mornings in London will begin where her ladyship's nights finish. But his case won't be very singular. Many couples make the marriage bed a kind of cold matrimonial well; and the two family buckets dip into it alternately.
Enter Lady Caroline Braymore.
Lady Car. Do I interrupt business?