"That last reason decides me," replied Blaize. "But I suppose his lordship will provide himself with a medicine chest?"
"He has already got one as large as this table," said Pillichody, "and you shall have the key of it."
"Enough!" exclaimed Blaise. "I am yours."
"Pray, what am I to be?" asked Patience, who had listened to the foregoing conversation with a smile at Blaize's credulity.
"You, sweetheart!" exclaimed Pillichody. "I will take care of you. You shall be my housekeeper."
"Hold!" cried Blaize. "I cannot admit that. Patience and I are engaged."
"Since you are promoted to such an important situation, you can make a better match," observed Patience. "I release you from the engagement."
"I don't choose to be released," returned Blaize; "I will marry you on the same day that the earl weds Amabel."
"That will be to-night, or to-morrow at the latest," said Pillichody. "Consent, sweetheart," he added, in a whisper to Patience; "if we can once get you and your pretty mistress out of the house, we will leave this simpleton fool in the lurch."
"No, I will never consent to such a thing," returned Patience, in the same tone.