Mat. Would ye like to take a snooze on the sofa?
Whi. A snooze? Miss Matilda, hasn’t your father told you?
Mat. Told me—told me what?
Whi. Why, that I——
Mat. Ye niver mean to sit there and tell me ye’re the young gintleman of high family, unblemished morals, and considerable command of ready money?
Whi. That’s me—he has told you. Yes, Miss Matilda, I have dared——
Mat. But don’t ye know I’m engaged to your friend, Tom Cobb?
Whi. Tom Cobb! Yes, I know you are. A mule, a clod, an unsuccessful clod. Yes, I know he’s tied to you as a log is tied to the leg of a runaway donkey. I beg your pardon—I don’t mean that; but you can’t really love him?
Mat. ’Deed, and I like him very well then. He’s a good boy. But tell me now—is it bills?
Whi. (rather taken aback). Well, yes; since you put it like that, it is bills.