Farm. Nor about scrubs.
Finsb. But I beg leave to explain, gentlemen. All I ventured to remark or suggest was, that as there was some talk of Mr. Talbot’s being captain to-morrow, I didn’t conceive how he could well appear without any dress. That was all, upon my word and honour. A good morning to you, gentlemen; it is time for me to be off. Mrs. Newington, you were so obliging as to promise to accommodate me with a return chaise as far as Eton.
(Finsbury bows and exit.)
Farm. A good day to you and your bandboxes. There’s a fellow for you now! Ha! ha! ha!—A man-milliner, forsooth!
Landlord. Mrs. Talbot’s coming—stand back.
Landlady. Lord! why does Bob show them through this way?
Enter Mrs. Talbot, leaning on Louisa; Waiter showing the way.
Landlady. You are going on, I suppose, ma’am?
Waiter (aside to Landlord). Not if she could help it; but there’s no beds, since Mr. Bursal and Miss Bursal’s come.
Landlord. I say nothing, for it is vain to say more. But isn’t it a pity she can’t stay for the Montem, poor old lady! Her son—as good and fine a lad as ever you saw—they say, has a chance, too, of being captain. She may never live to see another such a sight.