Mary. (Entering with the white waistcoat worn by Widgetts at first, and a note in her hand.) Well, you’re a pretty careless fellow, to leave your letters in your waistcoat pocket. Where is he gone to? (Examines the note curiously. Reads.) “Whittington Widgetts, Esq.” It’s a woman’s hand. I’ve a good mind to read it. I’ve no secrets from him and he has none from me—or, at least he oughtn’t to—so it can be no harm. (Opens note and reads hastily.) “Ma’amselle Cheri Bounce”—Ah!—“compliments—happy to sup with Mr. W. W. this evening—female notions—single gent—lobsters is stronger than prudence—therefore trusts to indulgence, at nine o’clock precise.” Oh, the minx! (Reads.) “P.S.—I’ll come in my blue visite and my native innocence.” Oh, Widgetts, the false deceitful wretch, to deceive me and wash out all his promises; to wring my heart and mangle my affections like that. (Sobbing.) But I—I—don’t care not a pin’s point; no, I despise him and hate him worse than poison, and I’ll—I’ll—I’ll—tell him so. (Sobbing.) I’ll—I’ll——
Enter JACOB BROWN, L. door.
Brown. (Angrily.) Where’s Widgetts! I want to see Widgetts.
Mary. Then you want to see a good-for-nothing fellow.
Brown. Exactly, and I shouldn’t mind adding that I consider him an numbug.
Mary. A wretch!
Brown. Most decidedly.
Mary. A puppy!
Brown. Not a doubt of it. You see we’re unanimous in our verdict. That man, ma’am, has been a reptile in my path, a wiper to all my hopes, and an adder to all my woes; he has lacerated my heart and singed the tender buds of young affection here.
(Lays his hands on his bosom.)