Mrs. P. I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you’ll excuse the liberty), that you have never married.
Dr. D. (aside). Be still, my fluttering heart!
Mrs. P. A clergyman’s wife does so much good in a village. Besides that, you are not so young as you were, and before very long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts.
Dr. D. Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have left it too long. I am an old fogey now, am I not, my dear? (to Constance)—a very old fogey, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor.
Con. Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet’s bosom.)
Mrs. P. Come, come, dear one, don’t fret. At a more fitting time we will try again—we will try again.
[Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and Constance.
Dr. D. (looking after them). Poor little girl! I’m afraid she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was when this old heart would have throbbed in double time at the sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here come the young Alexis, with his proud and happy father. Let me dry this tell-tale tear!
Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis from house.