SCENE II
Anthony, Miss Foster
Anthony. What is the meaning of all this, ma’am? I don’t like it.
Miss Foster. Nothing, child, that I know. You spoke of Mr. Austin, our dear friend, like a groom; and she, like any lady of taste, took arms in his defence.
Anthony. No, ma’am, that won’t do. I know the sex. You mark my words, the girl has some confounded nonsense in her head, and wants looking after.
Miss Foster. In my presence, Anthony, I shall ask you to speak of Dorothy with greater respect. With your permission, your sister and I will continue to direct our own affairs. When we require the interference of so young and confident a champion, you shall know. (Curtsies, kisses her hand, and goes out, L.)
SCENE III
Anthony
Anthony. Upon my word, I think Aunt Evelina one of the most uncivil old women in the world. Nine weeks ago I came of age; and they still treat me like a boy. I’m a recognised Corinthian, too: take my liquor with old Fred, and go round with the Brummagem Bantam and Jack Bosb— . . . O damn Jack Bosbury. If his father was a tailor, he shall fight me for his ungentlemanly conduct. However, that’s all one. What I want is to make Aunt Evelina understand that I’m not the man to be put down by an old maid who’s been brought up in a work-basket, begad! I’ve had nothing but rebuffs all day. It’s very remarkable. There was that man Austin, to begin with. I’ll be hanged if I can stand him. I hear too much of him; and if I can only get a good excuse to put him to the door, I believe it would give Dorothy and all of us a kind of a position. After all, he’s not a man to visit in the house of ladies: not when I’m away, at least. Nothing in it of course; but is he a man whose visits I can sanction?