Hard. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of anything but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our families will make our personal friendships hereditary; and though my daughter's fortune is but small——
Sir Charles. Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to me? My son is possessed of more than a competence already, and can want nothing but a good and virtuous girl to share his happiness and increase it. If they like each other, as you say they do——
Hard. If, man! I tell you they do like each other. My daughter as good as told me so.
Sir Charles. But girls are apt to flatter themselves, you know.
Hard. I saw him grasp her hand in the warmest manner myself; and here he comes to put you out of your ifs, I warrant you.
Enter Marlow.
Marl. I come, sir, once more, to ask pardon for my strange conduct. I can scarce reflect on my insolence without confusion.
Hard. Tut, boy, a trifle. You take it too gravely. An hour or two's laughing with my daughter will set all to rights again.—She'll never like you the worse for it.
Marl. Sir, I shall be always proud of her approbation.
Hard. Approbation is but a cold word, Mr. Marlow: if I am not deceived, you have something more than approbation thereabouts. You take me.