Will. Hush! Don’t wake anybody. I wouldn’t be seen by any one but you for the world. You see, I got awful homesick, wanted to have a look at the old home, and, if possible, speak with you. But I don’t want to meet father or mother.
Mary. Don’t want to meet them! O, Will, your city life—
Will. Is splendid! I’m rising in the world—I am. That’s the place for me. Busy all day, and at night seeing the sights. O, it’s gay! I’m doing well. But I shall never meet father until I am rich enough to say, “I was right, and you were wrong. I should have been on the bench now had I listened to you; but I asserted my rights, went into the world, and have come back rich, powerful, influential.” Ahem. That’s the style in which I shall meet him one of these days.
Mary. Will, are you still in the employ of Mr. Douglas?
Will. No. I’m on my own account.
Mary. O, Heavens! ’tis true, ’tis true!
Will. What’s true, Mary?
Mary. The forged check.
Will. Eh? What forged check?
Mary. Henry Douglas told me to-night that you had forged his name to a check for two hundred dollars.