Capt. H. (Pointing stealthily at the sleeping Carvil). Heavy?
Bessie. (In a dead voice). Like a millstone.
(A silence.)
Capt. H. (Burst of indignation). Why don't that extravagant fellow get you a servant?
Bessie. I don't know.
Capt. H. (Cheerily). Wait till Harry comes home. He'll get you one.
Bessie (Almost hysterical; laughs). Why, Captain Hagberd, perhaps your son won't even want to look at me—when he comes home.
Capt. H. (In a great voice). What! (Quite low.) The boy wouldn't dare. (Rising choler.) Wouldn't dare to refuse the only sensible girl for miles around. That stubborn jackanapes refuse to marry a girl like you! (Walks about in a fury.) You trust me, my dear, my dear, my dear. I'll make him. I'll—I'll ———— (Splutters.) Cut him off with a shilling.
Bessie. Hush! (Severe.) You mustn't talk like that. What's this? More of your tantrums?
Capt. H. (Quite humble). No, no—this isn't my tantrums—when I don't feel quite well in my head. Only I can't stand this... I've grown as fond of you as if you'd been the wife of my Harry already.