While Belfield was endeavouring to recollect some such person, Mr Hobson eagerly called out “As to going abroad, madam, to be sure you're to do as you like, for that, as I say, is the soul of every thing; but else I can't say it's a thing I much approve; for my notion is this: here's a fine fortune, got as a man may say, out of the bowels of one's mother country, and this fine fortune, in default of male issue, is obliged to come to a female, the law making no proviso to the contrary. Well, this female, going into a strange country, naturally takes with her this fortune, by reason it's the main article she has to depend upon; what's the upshot? why she gets pilfered by a set of sharpers that never saw England in their lives, and that never lose sight of her till she has not a sous in the world. But the hardship of the thing is this: when it's all gone, the lady can come back, but will the money come back?--No, you'll never see it again: now this is what I call being no true patriot.” “I am quite ashamed for to hear you talk so, Mr Hobson!” cried Mr Simkins, affecting to whisper; “to go for to take a person to task at this rate, is behaving quite unbearable; it's enough to make the young lady afraid to speak before you.” “Why, Mr Simkins,” answered Mr Hobson, “truth is truth, whether one speaks it or not; and that, ma'am, I dare say, a young lady of your good sense knows as well as myself.” “I think, madam,” said Belfield, who waited their silence with great impatience, “that I know just such a man as you will require, and one upon whose honesty I believe you may rely.” “That's more,” said Mr Hobson, “than I would take upon me to say for any _Englishman_! where you may meet with such a _Frenchman_, I won't be bold to say.” “Why indeed,” said Mr Simkins, “if I might take the liberty for to put in, though I don't mean in no shape to go to contradicting the young gentleman, but if I was to make bold to speak my private opinion upon the head, I should be inclinable for to say, that as to putting a dependance upon the French, it's a thing quite dubious how it may turn out.” “I take it as a great favour, ma'am,” said Mrs Belfield, “that you have been so complaisant as to make me this visit to-night, for I was almost afraid you would not have done me the favour any more; for, to be sure, when you was here last, things went a little unlucky: but I had no notion, for my part, who the old gentleman was till after he was gone, when Mr Hobson told me it was old Mr Delvile: though, sure enough, I thought it rather upon the extraordinary order, that he should come here into my parlour, and make such a secret of his name, on purpose to ask me questions about my own son.”