MRS. L. Here, ladies, is a programme I have drawn up of your first three weeks’ “Life in London,” (shewing a paper) an incessant, unflagging whirl of dissipation, I promise you. By-the-bye, I quite forgot to mention that Mr. Larkings has placed his riding horses at your disposal.
MRS. C. How delightful! I long to be in the saddle.
WOOD. (aside, and looking at MRS. CARVER) She’ll never stop in it unless she’s tied in, she’s too round, she’ll roll off, to a certainty!
MRS. W. (to MRS. LARKINGS) And can you, will you indeed fulfil all your delightful promises?
MRS. L. Yes! not only those I have made to you, but to Mr. Woodcock, (with intention, and then aside to WOODCOCK) namely, not to strip the “Wild Woodcock” of his borrowed plumes—not to betray him to a certain lady who turns “very red in the face at the merest trifle,” provided he promises to think less of himself, and more of his wife; in other words, that he consents to exchange programmes. (after some hesitation, WOODCOCK draws his programme out of his pocket, looks imploringly at MRS. LARKINGS, who shakes her head—he then gives her his programme, and snatching hers out of her hand, thrusts it angrily into his pocket)
Enter DAVID, door, R. 2 E.
DAVID. (announcing) The wedding breakfast be all ready for the company, and the company be all ready for the wedding breakfast!
MRS. C. Come along! a mouthful of wedding cake and a bumper of champagne to the health of the bride and bridegroom, and then—hey for London! (DAVID looks very much astonished) Now, Marmy, your arm to Mrs. Larkings.
WOOD. (L. C.) Yes—one moment! (taking DAVID aside) David, my stock of dress coats, ditto trowsers, white neckcloths and patent leather boots, that I made you a present of——
DAVID. (L.) Yes, sir, ’cause you said you had done with them.