SIMON. I will. (aside) He’ll help me, I can see, to redden my nose!
Exit, with portmanteau, door, L.
FRANK. Have I done well to present myself here under my brother’s name, because I know their great preference for him, and that they treat me like a Cinderella of the male sex. This is the way I discovered that I was no favourite; one day I wrote to them for money, and didn’t get it: while Harry, who had also written for some, did: then I questioned myself as to what I had done, and as to what I had not done. I said to myself, it is nearly twelve years since Harry and I quitted the old people; we are of the same figure, considerably resemble each other; I could easily impose upon my grandmother, who is nearly blind, and ditto upon my grandfather, who is quite deaf, and so I will go to them and say here is your darling Harry, and express my willingness to receive as much money as they choose to give me; if my brother were to write I should be there to suppress his letters. Wasn’t that a clever idea? not particularly honest, but remarkably clever; that will teach parents to have a preference, to all respectable grandfathers one grandson is as good as another.
Enter ADELAIDE, door, C., a cloak over her arm, a small carpet bag in her hand.
ADELAIDE. Mrs. Mitchell, if you please, sir.
FRANK. (L. C.) Yes, this is her house, but she is gone from home for nine or ten days.
ADELA. (R. C.) How unfortunate! And Mr. Mitchell?
FRANK. That’s me. I am Mr. Mitchell; Fra——I mean Harry Mitchell.
ADELA. (aside) Harry! It is he!