Mad. Oh, oh—very Anglaise! dat is so Englise, all women of quality in France are dress and undress by a valet de chambre; de man chamber-maid help complexion better den de woman. [Apart to L. Harriot.
L. Ha. Nay, that's a secret in dress, mademoiselle, I never knew before, and am so unpolished an English woman as to resolve never to learn even to dress before my husband. Oh! Indecency! Mr. Campley, do you hear what mademoiselle says?
Mad. Oh! Hist—bagatelle.
L. Ha. Well, we'll run in and be ready in an instant. [Exeunt L. Harriot and Mademoiselle.
Cam. Well, I like her every minute better and better. What a delicate chastity she has! There's something so gross in the carriage of some wives (though they're honest too) that they lose their husbands' hearts for faults which, if they had either good nature or good breeding, they know not how to tell 'em of. But how happy am I in such a friend as Hardy, such a mistress as Harriot!
Continue Heaven, a grateful heart to bless
With faith in friendship, and in love success.