Grap. (Patting March on the back.) Ha! ze leetle baby have grown ver much,—ver much. Zis is vat you call jolly.
March. Jolly, old Frenchy? That’s so, and I owe it all to you. But where’s Kitty?
Kitty. (Up stage, C.) Here, March.
March. What are you skulking back there for? You know what you told me to-day.
Kitty. But I didn’t think you’d ever find your father; and now you’re rich, and I’m only a poor girl.
March. Father, you’ve found a son to-day, and that son has found a wife. You must take both, or neither: which shall it be?
Mrs. Gale. What! our Kitty!
John Gale. Yes, our Kitty.
Ray. Well, I don’t know. I must have time to consider.
March. No, you mustn’t. Speak quick, or you lose us. I wanted a father bad enough; but thus far I have done without one, and I rather think—