Married Life: A Comedy, in Three Acts

by John Baldwin Buckstone

Mrs. Ly. I never heard of this.—Who could the girl have been? What was her age?

Mrs. Dove. At that time seventeen.

Mrs. Ly. Her name?

Mrs. Dove. Harriet Seymour.

Mrs. Ly. Where is she now?

Mrs. Dove. That question I am quite incompetent to answer—she resided with me a year and a half—and at the end of that time suddenly disappeared.

Dove. We think she eloped, for every now and then somebody used to come and sing under the windows, to such a degree that all the girls in the house went raving mad.

Mrs. Dove. Silence, dear.

Dove. Yes, darling.