Sir W. Very pretty, my dear: and I am glad there are to be tents, otherwise a fête champêtre in the month of March would give me the rheumatism even to think of.
Clara. Oh, my dear sir, not at all. You will be snug and warm in the green-house.
Sir W. Well, Clara, dispose of me as you please—I am entirely at your service for the rest of my days.
Clara. Thank you, sir—you are the best of uncles, guardians, and friends.
{Miss O’HARA goes back and appears to be giving directions to the servants.
Sir W. Uncle, nature made me—guardian, your father made me—friend, you made me yourself, Clara. (Sir WILLIAM comes forward, and speaks as if in a reverie.) And ever more my friendship for her shall continue, though my guardianship is over. I am glad I conquered my indolence, and came to Ireland with her; for a cool English head will be wanting to guide that warm Irish heart.—And here I stand counsel for prudence against generosity!
Clara. (advancing to him playfully) A silver penny for your thoughts, uncle.
Sir W. Shall I never teach you economy?—such extravagance! to give a penny, and a silver penny, for what you may have for nothing.
Clara. Nothing can come of nothing—speak again.
Sir W. I was thinking of you, my—ward no longer.