Bev. [Aside.] Well, if I were given to strong sentiments, I should wish that fellow at the deuce. As it is, I'll content myself with simply damning his impudence.
Mad. L. Do you know, my dear, that I don't feel quite easy in my mind about that young man.
Bev. [Aside.] Nor I, either.
Mar. Why not, mamma?
Mad. L. He is much too charming to make a good steward.
Mar. Really; I do not perceive it. A person may be honest and well-behaved, although he does happen to play on the piano.
Bev. I don't know that; I flatter myself I have seen something of the world, and experience has specially taught me to beware of the man who plays the piano.
Mar. Mamma, dear, will you hand me those scissors?
Mad. L. Yes, my child. [Perceives Manuel's portfolio.] Whose drawing-book is this?
Mar. That? oh! that is the steward's—I saw it in his hand when he came in.