Sally. Well, thank goodness, that’s settled.
Jarius. Heow’s yeour marm, Miss Peeslee?
Sally. Rather peaked, Mr. Jerden; and jest when I ought to be at home, I’m kept at the big house and worked like a dog. Such a set of cross-grained folks you never did see. Old Mr. Douglas as proud and stiff as a grannydear, Mrs. Douglas frettin’ and worryin’ the livelong day about nothin’, and that good-for-nothin’ Hen of theirs a carryin’ on all sorts of didos. He and the old gentleman had an awful quarrel this mornin’. Somehow Mr. Douglas got it into his head that Hen was sparking Mary Nutter in airnest. Don’t believe such a notion ever entered the feller’s head afore. He’s only flirtin’ with her, same as he has with twenty other girls; but, to spite the old man, he swore—O, awful!—he’d marry her, if he was turned out of doors for it.
Ned. He marry our Mary!
Sally. Why not? He’s none too good for her.
Ned. She’s too good for him.
Sally. Why, Ned, you ain’t sweet on her—are you?
Ned. Me? I should not dare. But he’s a worthless spendthrift, thinks only of his own pleasure, regardless of others’ feelings, selfish, dissipated, cunning, and crafty. He marry Mary! Heaven forbid!
Jarius. Jes’ so. He cuts a mighty big swell on an awful small capital.
Sally. He’s good looking, and that goes a long way with girls. I don’t think Mary would break her heart if she knew she was to be his wife.