ACT. II.—Scene—Same as in Act I.; viz., the Morning-room at Natterjack Hall. Evening of same day. Enter Blethers.
Blethers. Another of Sir Poshbury's birthdays almost gone—and my secret still untold! (Dodders.) I can't keep it up much longer ... Ha, here comes his Lordship—he does look mortal bad, that he do! Miss Verbena ain't treated him too well, from all I can hear, poor young feller!
Enter Lord Bleshugh.
Lord Bleshugh. Blethers, by the memory of the innumerable half-crowns that have passed between us, be my friend now! I have no others left. Persuade your young Mistress to come hither—you need not tell her I am here, you understand. Be discreet, and this florin shall be yours!
Blethers. Leave it to me, my Lord. I'd tell a lie for less than that, any day, old as I am!
[Exit.
Lord Bl. I cannot rest till I have heard from her own lips that the past few hours have been nothing but a horrible dream ... She is coming! Now for the truth!
[Enter Verbena.
Verbena. Papa, did you want me? (Recognises Lord B.—controls herself to a cold formality.) My Lord, to what do I owe this—this unexpected intrusion?
[Pants violently.