MR. W. That's a remarkably sanguine young man; but, then, he's at the sanguine time of life. I was sanguine myself once--remarkably sanguine; and then I married Mrs. Watmuff--or, rather, I should say, she married me. I believe that there is a ceremony which, in polite language, is termed asking the dearly-beloved object of your affections "the momentous question," and in vulgar parlance is called "popping the question." I may honestly say that I neither popped nor momented. Looking back on a long vista of years, I cannot for the life of me remember any period when I was engaged; I only remember being free, and being--well--married. Marriages, they say, are made in Heaven. I don't want to be irreverent, but sometimes I can't help wishing that Heaven had left me, as the charity cards say, "totally unprovided for." But my provision approaches. (_Enter_ MRS. WATMUFF, _door_ L.) MRS. W. (_sits_ L.). So, Mr. Watmuff, I find you alone. I am fortunate. Sit down, sit down, sir. I repeat, I am fortunate. MR. W. (_sits_, R.). My dear, I am very glad to hear it. Fortune, they say, favors the-- MRS. W. A truce, sir, to ribaldry. The time has come when a definite understanding should exist between us. MR. W. My dear, so far as I am concerned, a _very_ definite understanding has existed for a very long time. MRS. W. Peace, vain scoffer! and hear me. Our daughter, Mr. Watmuff, is of an age to wed. MR. W. My love, I am given to understand that she also is of that opinion. MRS. W. And of this crisis in the life of our only child you make an opportunity to fly in my face. MR. W. Do I, my dear? I was not aware of it. MRS. W. Do you not directly encourage the advances of a suitor who is to me in every way distasteful? MR. W. But, my love, on what grounds? On what grounds? MRS. W. Grounds, Mr. Watmuff--grounds! You speak of your daughter as though she were so much coffee. Is it not enough that I object to the addresses of this young upstart? MR. W. My dear, it is quite enough. I may say that it is more than enough. But what was I to do? I always liked Walter. You know that I dote on Emily. They come to me, tell me that they love each other, and ask for my blessing. I happen to have a blessing by me, and I give it them. MRS. W. And without a thought of me--_me_, the partner of your joys and sorrows--_me_, the ruling spirit of your existence. You have no right to dispose of a blessing of your own, Mr. Watmuff--you have not got one. Such a blessing is a curse. MR. W. Well, my love, whatever it is, they've got it, and they seem to like it, so far, well enough. But-- MRS. W. A truce--a truce, I say. MR. W. A truce, by all means; but as for Walter Litherland-- MRS. W. Walter Litherland never marries daughter of mine, Mr. Watmuff. It is enough. I have said it. I married to gratify my parents. Emily will marry to gratify me.