Louisa. Miss Bursal is much to be pitied; for the loss of wealth will be the loss of happiness to her.
Lady P. It is to be hoped that the loss may at least check the foolish pride and extravagance of young Bursal, who, as my son tells me—
(A cry of “Huzza! huzza!” behind the scenes.)
Enter Lord John.
Lord J. (hastily). How d’ye do, mother! Miss Talbot, I give you joy.
Lady P. Take breath—take breath.
Louisa. It is my brother.
Mrs. T. Here he is!—Hark! hark!
(A cry behind the scenes of “Talbot and truth for ever! Huzza!”)
Louisa. They are chairing him.