Lofty. Well, to keep you no longer in suspense, your thing is done. It is done, I say; that’s all I have just had assurances from Lord Neverout that the claim has been examined and found admissible. Quietus is the word, madam.
Miss R. But how? his lordship has been at Newmarket these ten days.
Lofty. Indeed! then Sir Gilbert Goose must have been most d—y mistaken. I had it of him.
Miss R. He? Why, Sir Gilbert and his family have been in the country this month.
Lofty. This month? It must certainly be so. Sir Gilbert’s letter did come to me from Newmarket, so that he must have met his lordship there; and so it came about. I have his letter about me; I’ll read it to you. (Taking out a large bundle.) That’s from Paoli of Corsica, that from the Marquis of Squilachi. Have you a mind to see a letter from Count Poniatowski, now King of Poland? Honest Pon—— (Searching.) Oh, sir, what, are you here too? I’ll tell you what, honest friend, if you have not absolutely delivered my letter to Sir William Honeywood, you may return it. The thing will do without him.
Sir W. Sir, I have delivered it, and must inform you, it was received with the most mortifying contempt.
Croa. Contempt! Mr. Lofty, what can that mean?
Lofty. Let him go on, let him go on, I say. You’ll find it come to something directly.
Sir W. Yes, sir, I believe you’ll be amazed; after waiting some time in the ante-chamber, after being surveyed with insolent curiosity by the passing servants, I was at last assured that Sir William Honeywood knew no such person, and I must certainly have been imposed upon.
Lofty. Good; let me die, very good. Ha, ha, ha!