Miss Sna. We ought really to tell him what we have heard, and break off the match.
Miss Sky. Let us first be assured that one is about to be made. Search the room, perhaps we may discover something that may confirm our suspicions. Miss Snare, you examine his books, and the drawers of his table; Boss peep about in the corners; Damper, go up stairs and cross-examine him; I’ll rummage the sideboard. (Opens sideboard cupboard.) Oh! what’s here?
All. What?
Miss Sky. Oho! a wedding-cake and cards. (Takes out cake and cards.)
Dam. A wedding-cake!
Miss Sna. And cards too!
Miss Sky. (Holding them out and singing.)
“A bridal wreath we weave for thee,
Of every flower the fairest.”
Dam. (Taking them from her.) Connubial cards linked together by little bits of silver cord. (Reading.) “Mr. John Niggle, Mrs. John Niggle.”