Cha. Ah, madam! Even the most confused man in the world could but confess that you are charming. (Aside.) If my neighbor were only half as pretty! Charming is not the word; but, excuse me, you come here at five in the morning, and ask me what I think of you. Well, that’s all right, I suppose; but pardon me if I go further, and venture to ask in the most humble manner in the world a little question.
Luc. (same voice). I’m listening.
Cha. I scarcely know how to put it, but by what curious coincidence do you come to know my name?
Luc. (in ordinary voice). Because, sir, I found out. (Points to dressing-case.) Because it’s the name of a kind, frank, brave young fellow, whom I really don’t find too lazy for any thing, and whom I’ve also learned to know as too honorable to misinterpret.
Cha. That voice! impossible. (Points to L. H.) It can’t be you. Who could I have seen there just now?
Luc. My maid, who was asleep whilst I was here, reading your name.
Cha. Why, it’s like a dream. But your husband, madam—
Luc. He too has gone to that land of rest.
Cha. You are then—
Luc. Miss Lucy Mortimer, your cousin, who can no longer retain the fortune that so justly belongs to you.