HENRICH SCHERCL. Ah, no, you must say Heinrich. ROSALINE. Yes--Heinrich? HENRICH SCHERCL. You will not sit to Mr. Tempenny any more? It is not fit, now that you are to be Mrs. Schercl, that you should earn your living in such a way. ROSALINE (_doubtfully_). He will be very disappointed. He can't finish "Susannah" without me, and if he don't finish it, he won't get the two hundred pounds. (_Enter_ MRS. SYLVESTER _and_ MRS. TEMPENNY. _L. dressed for walking_.) MRS. TEMPENNY. Sir! HENRICH SCHERCL. Ah, my friend Tempenny's wife. And Mrs. Sylvester--how do you do? MRS. SYLVESTER. This creature again? MRS. TEMPENNY. By what right, sir, do you bring this person again--and into my private house. ROSALINE. Creature! Stand up for me, Heinrich. HENRICH SCHERCL. I will, my treasure. (_To_ MRS. TEMPENNY.) I must trouble you, my good madam, to speak in terms of more respect of a lady who will shortly be my wife. MRS. TEMPENNY } } (_aside_). MRS. SYLVESTER } Schercl's wife! We must be very civil to her! HENRICH SCHERCL. Let me introduce you: Mrs. Tempenny, Mrs. Sylvester--the future Mrs. Heinrich Schercl. (_The two women gush up to her and shake her hands_.) (_Enter_ TEMPENNY _and_ SYLVESTER. _L._) REMBRANDT TEMPENNY. What's this I see, do I dream? CHARLES SYLVESTER. Are visions about? MRS. TEMPENNY (_aside to_ TEMPENNY). Why on earth didn't you tell me? They are engaged--I might have offended him for life! MRS. SYLVESTER (_aside to_ SYLVESTER). How stupid you were! They are going to be married. Why, you might never have got an order from him again! REMBRANDT TEMPENNY. Dear, dear, dear, but my very good friend, if this lady is going to be your wife, how about "Susannah?" HENRICH SCHERCL. Forgive me, "Susannah" cannot be. I release you from the contract. REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (_aside_). Tidings of joy! (_Aloud_.) But--but--this is very hard on me. HENRICH SCHERCL. I release you, and I pay you just the same. REMBRANDT TFMPENNY. But she has had the money for a dozen sittings. HENRICH SCHERCL. I pay. (_Enter_ SUSAN.) SUSAN. If you please, sir, there's a hofficer of the law downstairs and he wants Mr. Tempenny or forty pun', sixteen shillings and ninepence. REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (_waving his hand_). Schercl! HENRICH SCHERCL. I pay--and I gif you the balance by a jeque. REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (_with mock despair_). Pay--you pay? But the work of my life unfinished.--What money can compensate for that? (_Sinks forlornly into chair_.) _Curtain_. THE END. PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER.