LADY K.—Oh, Howell! Howell! We must not mention Howell, my dear Mrs. Bonnington. Howell is faultless! Howell has the keys of everything! Howell is not to be controlled in anything! Howell is to be at liberty to be rude to my servant!
MILLIKEN.—Is that all? I am sure I should have thought your man was big enough to resent any rudeness from poor little Howell.
LADY K.—Horace! Excuse me for saying that you don't know—the—the class of servant to whom Bulkeley belongs. I had him, as a great favor, from Lord Toddleby. That class of servant is accustomed generally not to go out single.
MILLIKEN.—Unless they are two behind a carriage-perch they pine away, as one love-bird does without his mate!
LADY K.—No doubt! no doubt! I only say you are not accustomed here—in this kind of establishment, you understand—to that class of—
MRS. B.—Lady Kicklebury! is my son's establishment not good enough for any powdered monster in England? Is the house of a British merchant—?
LADY K.—My dear creature! my dear creature! it IS the house of a British merchant, and a very comfortable house.
MRS. B.—Yes, as you find it.
LADY K.—Yes, as I find it, when I come to take care of my departed, angel's children, Mrs. Bonnington—[pointing to picture]—of THAT dear seraph's orphans, Mrs. Bonnington. YOU cannot. You have other duties—other children—a husband at home in delicate health, who—
MRS. B.—Lady Kicklebury, no one shall say I don't take care of my dear husband!