Helen. Now, my dear papa, are you really of the same opinion as her ladyship?
Sir W. Exactly.
Helen. Ha! ha! lud! but that’s comical. What! both think alike?
Sir W. Precisely.
Helen. That’s very odd. I believe it’s the first time you’ve agreed in opinion since you were made one: but I’m quite sure you never can wish me to marry a man I do not love.
Sir W. Why no, certainly not; but you will love him; indeed you must. It’s my wife’s wish, you know, and so I wish it of course. Come, come, in this one trifling matter you must oblige us.
Helen. Well, as you think it only a trifling matter, and as I think it of importance enough to make me miserable, I’m sure you’ll give up the point.
Sir W. Why no, you are mistaken. To be sure I might have given it up; but my lady Worret, you know—but that’s no matter. Marriage is a duty, and tis incumbent on parents to see their children settled in that happy state.
Helen. Have you found that state so happy, sir?
Sir W. Why—yes—that is—hey? happy! certainly. Doesn’t every body say so? and what every body says must be true. However, that’s not to the purpose. A connexion with the family of lord Austencourt is particularly desirable.