They confer.
Enter Marlow.
Marl. The assiduities of these good people tease me beyond bearing. My host seems to think it ill manners to leave me alone, and so he claps not only himself, but his old-fashioned wife on my back. They talk of coming to sup with us too; and then, I suppose, we are to run the gauntlet through all the rest of the family.—What have we got here?—
Hast. My dear Charles! Let me congratulate you!—The most fortunate accident!—Who do you think is just alighted?
Marl. Cannot guess.
Hast. Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss Neville. Give me leave to introduce Miss Constance Neville to your acquaintance. Happening to dine in the neighbourhood, they called, on their return, to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle has just stept into the next room, and will be back in an instant. Wasn't it lucky, eh?
Marl. (Aside.) I have just been mortified enough of all conscience, and here comes something to complete my embarrassment.
Hast. Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in the world?
Marl. Oh! yes. Very fortunate—a most joyful encounter—But our dresses, George, you know, are in disorder—What if we should postpone the happiness till to-morrow?—To-morrow, at her own house—It will be every bit as convenient—And rather more respectful—To-morrow let it be.
Offering to go.