MISS P.—Captain Touchit knew it, sir, all along: and that my motives and, thank God, my life were honorable.
MILLIKEN.—Oh, Touchit knew it, did he? and thought it honorable—honorable. Ha! ha! to marry a footman—and keep a public-house? I—I beg your pardon, John Howell—I mean nothing against you, you know. You're an honorable man enough, except that you have been damned insolent to my brother-in-law.
JOHN.—Oh, heaven! [JOHN strikes his forehead, and walks away.]
MISS P.—You mistake me, sir. What I wished to speak of was the fact which this gentleman has no doubt communicated to you—that I danced on the stage for three months.
MILLIKEN.—Oh, yes. Oh, damme, yes. I forgot. I wasn't thinking of that.
KICKLEBURY.—You see she owns it.
MISS P.—We were in the depths of poverty. Our furniture and lodging-house under execution—from which Captain Touchit, when he came to know of our difficulties, nobly afterwards released us. My father was in prison, and wanted shillings for medicine, and I—I went and danced on the stage.
MILLIKEN.—Well?
MISS P.—And I kept the secret afterwards; knowing that I could never hope as governess to obtain a place after having been a stage-dancer.
MILLIKEN.—Of course you couldn't,—it's out of the question; and may I ask, are you going to resume that delightful profession when you enter the married state with Mr. Howell?