Ch. Belinda, we were married in the garden!
[Belinda leaves Belvawney, and turns affectionately to Cheviot, who embraces her.]
Bel. Belinda, stop a bit! don’t leave me like this!
Miss T. (crosses to Belvawney). Belvawney, I love you with an intensity of devotion that I firmly believe will last while I live. But dear Cheviot is my husband now; he has a claim upon me which it would be impossible—nay, criminal—to resist. Farewell, Belvawney; Minnie may yet be yours! (Belvawney turns sobbing to Minnie, who comforts him; Miss T. crosses back to Cheviot.) Cheviot—my husband—my own old love—if the devotion of a lifetime can atone for the misery of the last few days, it is yours, with every wifely sentiment of pride, gratitude, admiration, and love.
Ch. (embracing her). My own! my own! Tender blossom of my budding hopes! Star of my life! Essence of happiness! Tree upon which the fruit of my heart is growing! My Past, my Present, my To Come!
[Picture.—Cheviot embracing Miss Treherne. Belvawney is being comforted by Minnie. Angus is solacing Maggie, and Mrs. Macfarlane is reposing on Mr. Symperson’s bosom.