MISS B. How!
BOLT. (Runs to her, and whispers.) Say nothing, and you shall be my real wife.—Sir, you will consent to our union?—(Aside.) It’s a horrid plunge, but I can’t help it.
MIZ. (Aside.) Egad, this is jumping from the frying-pan into the fire. I hope the old woman won’t be looking after me.
COT. (Takes MRS. STITCHLEY’S hand.) This, Harriet, will be your mother-in-law.
MIZ. (Aside.) A lucky escape!
HAR. Then, papa, there will be three weddings.
CUT. Yes, we can give away one another.
MIZ. While Mr. Addison is content with merely being a spectator.
COT. Come, this troublesome day’s work is well over. You have some time had my forgiveness, Harriet; I wish not to say anything unpleasant—but when I contrast your conduct with that of these two excellent young men——
BOLT. Oh, sir, we have done but our duty.—Come forward, Bobby.—I repeat it, our duty: our duty is to amuse these ladies and gentlemen,—and if anything we have done has contributed to that desirable end, we certainly think our “Day has been well Spent.”