BUR. Mistress! why Miss Mabel—I ask your pardon, miss,—I mean, madam. Bless your sweet face!—here, John, Thomas!
MABEL. Hush!
BUR. Lord, lord! come at last! oh! how woundy glad I am, to be sure—oh! lord, lord, my old head’s all of a muddle with joy to see your kind face again.
MABEL. (R.) But Ernest—Mr. Vane, James, is he well—and happy—and (sees his change of face)—Eh! he is well, James?
BUR. Yes, yes, quite well, and main happy.
MABEL. And is he very impatient to see me?
BUR. (aside). Lord help her!
MABEL. But mind, James, not a word; he doesn’t expect me till six, and ’tis now scarce four. Oh! I shall startle him so!
BUR. Yes, yes, madam; you’ll startle him woundily.
MABEL. Oh! it will be so delightful to pop out upon him unawares—will it not, James?