Cod. Ah, Mr. Dismal!—I was thinking of you.
Mrs. Cod. Mr. and Mrs. D. have also received an invitation to dine at Lynx’s to-day—and have called, in passing, to know if we were also going.
Mrs. Dis. How ill poor Mr. Coddle looks!
Dis. What is the matter with him?
Mrs. Cod. I’m sure I can’t tell, he keeps the cause of his illness a profound secret.
Mrs. Dis. He’s like me—he loves to pine in solitude, and brood over unrevealed sorrows.
Dis. You love to be a fool.
Mrs. Cod. Our friends are as much surprised at receiving an invitation from Mrs. Lynx as we were.
Mrs. Dis. For the last time we called there the poor woman thought proper to be jealous of me.
Dis. There was only that wanting to prove her madness.