Mrs. Rack. I could not sleep for thinking of my coach, my liveries, and my chairmen; the taste of clothes I should be presented in, distracted me for a week; and whether I should be married in white or lilac, gave me the most cruel anxiety.
Letit. And is it possible that you felt no other care?
Hardy. And pray, of what sort may your cares be, Mrs. Letitia? I begin to foresee now that you have taken a dislike to Doricourt.
Letit. Indeed, Sir, I have not.
Hardy. Then what's all this melancholy about? A'n't you going to be married? and, what's more, to a sensible man? and, what's more to a young girl, to a handsome man? And what's all this melancholy for, I say?
Mrs. Rack. Why, because he is handsome and sensible, and because she's over head and ears in love with him; all which, it seems, your foreknowledge had not told you a word of.
Letit. Fye, Caroline!
Hardy. Well, come, do you tell me what's the matter then? If you don't like him, hang the signing and sealing, he sha'n't have ye:—and yet I can't say that neither; for you know that estate, that cost his father and me upwards of fourscore thousand pounds, must go all to him if you won't have him: if he won't have you, indeed, 'twill be all yours. All that's clear, engross'd upon parchment, and the poor dear man set his hand to it whilst he was a dying.—"Ah!" said I, "I foresee you'll never live to see 'em come together; but their first son shall be christened Jeremiah after you, that I promise you."——But come, I say, what is the matter? Don't you like him?
Letit. I fear, Sir—if I must speak—I fear I was less agreeable in Mr. Doricourt's eyes, than he appeared in mine.
Hardy. There you are mistaken; for I asked him, and he told me he liked you vastly. Don't you think he must have taken a fancy to her?