Miss G. Indeed, sir, as to turtle-doves, I’m not sinsible; but Mr. Gilbert requisted of me to be favouring him with a song, which I was complying with, though I’m not used to be singing without my piano.
Christy. (aside) Sorrow take your piano! you’re not come there yet.
Miss G. I wonder the drum-major isn’t come yet. Does he expect tea can be keeping hot for him to the end of time? He’ll have nothing but slop-dash, though he’s a very genteel man. I’m partial to the military school, I own, and a High lander too is always my white-headed boy.
Gilb. (astonished) Her white-headed boy!—Now, if I was to be hanged for it, I don’t know what that means.
Miss G. Now where can you have lived, Mr. Gilbert, not to know that?
Christy. (aside) By the mass, he’s such a matter-o’-fact-man, I can’t get round him with all my wit.
Miss G. Here’s the drum-major! Scarlet’s asy seen at a distance, that’s one comfort!
Enter Mr. HOPE.
Mr. H. I’m late, Miss Florinda, I fear, for the tea-table; but I had a wee-wee bit of business to do for a young friend, that kept me.
Miss G. No matter, major, my tapot defies you. Take a cup a tea. Are you fond of music, major?