Mad.L. A cow?
Bev. I think so; horses don't go about with two horns.
Enter Manuel.
Man. Your pardon, ladies; but I believe I left my drawing-book—
Mad. L. Allow me to return it, sir—and to thank you for an accident which has afforded us much pleasure.
Man. Madame, you are too kind—so kind, indeed, that you have too long refrained from permitting me to commence my duties. With your consent, I will at once set about them. Your farm at Langeot, of which you spoke to me, is not more, I think, than a mile or two from this. I will walk over there this afternoon, and—
Mad. L. Walk! over such a miserable bad road as it is. Indeed, sir, I could not allow it.
Enter Madame Aubrey.
Mad. A. Hush! Pray, pray, not so much noise. My dear cousin has composed himself to sleep.
Bev. Noise! it appears to me we were pretty quiet.