Mrs. P. Good day, reverend sir.
Dr. D. Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little woman, I declare!
Con. (aside). Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!
Mrs. P. Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside to Dr. D.) Ah, sir, I’m afraid I shall soon lose her!
Dr. D. (aside to Mrs. P.). Dear me! you pain me very much. Is she delicate?
Mrs. P. Oh no, sir; I don’t mean that; but young girls look to get married.
Dr. D. Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there’s plenty of time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or five years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have much pleasure in marrying her myself——
Con. (aside). Oh, mother!
Dr. D. To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of life.
Con. (in tears). He does not love me!