Bet. No; I told my husband, Mr. Slimpsey, that my dignity as a married woman was at stake. In common times it is well to attend to sickness, but now, dignity and style both demand that I receive to-night.
Jos. Wall; Samantha will come right over.
Bet. Tell her Mrs. Simon Slimpsey will be glad to see her; formally Bobbett. (Exit Josiah, and soon Samantha comes in followed by Miss Gowdy and Mrs. Elder Peedick.)
Miss G. How do you do, Betsey?
Bet. (Coldly, holding out her hand, but not rising.) I am glad you come early, Sophronia. I want you to feel free with me, just as if I was not married. I shall still associate with my old friends. I don’t mean to show out no more haughtiness than I can help. I have told my husband, Mr. Slimpsey, that I should not turn my back on all single women now, if I was rose above ’em in station. Help yourself to some chairs. (They sit down and Samantha and Mrs. Peedick each of them take up a child on their laps.)
Sam. How are the children now?
Simon. The seventh boy is worse, and the twin girls are took down with it. It would be a melancholy pleasure if you could do something for ’em.
Sam. Have they been sweat?
Bet. No; I told my husband, Mr. Slimpsey, that I would not sweat them until after our reception. Sweating children is more or less depressing in its effects, and I felt that I needed all my youthful spirits and energies to support the weight of dignity that will enwrap me on this occasion like a mantilly.
Mrs. Peedick. I sweat Doodle when he had the very oh lord, till the sweat run right off his linement, and blistered both his feet till he couldn’t stand up on em; and I shall probably try to make Elder Peedick jest as comfortable when he is sick. But, oh Doodle, Doodle; your relict never can forget you, never.