MARL. Really, sir, I have not that happiness. HARD. Come boy, I'm an old fellow, and know what's what, as well as you that are younger. I know what has passed between you; but mum. MARL. Sure, sir, nothing has passed between us, but the most profound respect on my side, and the most distant reserve on hers. You don't think, sir, that my impudence has been passed upon all the rest of the family. HARD. Impudence! No, I don't say that—Not quite impudence—Though girls like to be played with, and rumpled a little too sometimes. But she has told no tales I assure you. MARL. I never gave her the slightest cause. HARD. Well, well, I like modesty in its place well enough. But this is over-acting, young gentleman. You _may_ be open. Your father and I will like you the better for it. MARL. May I die, sir, if I ever—— HARD. I tell you, she don't dislike you; and as I'm sure you like her—— MARL. Dear sir—I protest, sir—— HARD. I see no reason why you should not be joined as fast as the parson can tie you. MARL. But hear me, sir—— HARD. Your father approves the match, I admire it, every moment's delay will be doing mischief, so—— MARL. But why won't you hear me? By all that's just and true, I never gave Miss Hardcastle the slightest mark of my attachment, or even the most distant hint to suspect me of affection. We had but one interview, and that was formal, modest and uninteresting. HARD. (_Aside._). This fellow's formal modest impudence is beyond bearing. SIR CHARLES. And you never grasped her hand, or made any protestations? MARL. As Heaven is my witness, I came down in obedience to your commands. I saw the lady without emotion, and parted without reluctance. I hope you'll exact no further proofs of my duty, nor prevent me from leaving a house in which I suffer so many mortifications. _Exit._ SIR CHARLES. I'm astonished at the air of sincerity with which he parted. HARD. And I'm astonished at the deliberate intrepidity of his assurance. SIR CHARLES. I dare pledge my life and honour upon his truth. HARD. Here comes my daughter, and I would stake my happiness upon her veracity. _Enter_ MISS HARDCASTLE. HARD. Kate, come hither, child. Answer us sincerely, and without reserve: has Mr. Marlow made you any professions of love and affection? MISS HARD. The question is very abrupt, sir! But since you require unreserved sincerity, I think he has. HARD. (_To_ SIR CHARLES.) You see. SIR CHARLES. And pray, madam, have you and my son had more than one interview? MISS HARD. Yes, sir, several. HARD. (_To_ SIR CHARLES.) You see. SIR CHARLES. But did he profess any attachment? MISS HARD. A lasting one. SIR CHARLES. Did he talk of love? MISS HARD. Much, sir. SIR CHARLES. Amazing! and all this formally? MISS HARD. Formally. HARD. Now, my friend, I hope you are satisfied? SIR CHARLES. And how did he behave, madam?