MRS. P. (aside). I must find out who this “girlish fancy” of hers is. (Aloud.) Come here, Fanny. Of course your happiness is all I desire!
FANNY. And it’s all I desire too, mamma!
MRS. P. Then have confidence in your mother—your only mother! Tell me the name of the young man who has won your affections.
FANNY. You asked me if I had any one in my eye, and I said I had, but I didn’t tell you he was a young man. The fact is, mamma, I’ve been so often told that I am so giddy, so thoughtless, so flighty, that I selected some one of maturer years; he would give me the benefit of his experience—his advice—his—his—
MRS. P. Maturer years?
FANNY. Yes! Besides, he has known me so long!—ever since I was a tiny little mite. He used to dandle me on his knee, and buy me dolls and toys and sweeties and hardbake and elecampane, and all that sort of thing!
MRS. P. (aside). Known her for years! (Suddenly.) Mercy on us! can she be alluding to “Vicessimus?”
FANNY. But, ma dear, that which attracted more than all was the respectful, I may say the affectionate, terms in which he always speaks of you.
MRS. P. Does he? (Aside.) Poor fluttering heart, be still! Dear Vicessimus! He hain’t, then, quite forgot his Cleopatra! (Aloud.) But is DOCTOR PRETTYWELL—for it surely must be he to whom your remarks apply—