_Shuff._ Oh, not at all;--the case is fashionable, with both lords and commoners. _Lady Car._ But an old maiden aunt, whom, rest her soul! I never saw, for family pride's sake, bequeathed me an independence. To obviate his lordship's difficulties, I mean to--to marry into this humdrum Cornish family. _Shuff._ I see--a sacrifice!--filial piety, and all that--to disembarrass his lordship. But hadn't your ladyship better-- _Lady Car._ Marry to disembarrass you? _Shuff._ By my honour, I'm disinterested. _Lady Car._ By my honour, I'm monstrously piqued--and so vex'd, that I can't read this morning,--nor talk,--nor----I'll walk. _Shuff._ Shall I attend you? _Lady Car._ No;--don't fidget at my elbow, as you do at the opera. But you shall tell me more of this by and by. _Shuff._ When?--Where? [_Taking her Hand._ _Lady Car._ Don't torment me.--This evening, or--to-morrow, perhaps;--in the park,--or----psha! we shall meet at dinner.--Do, let me go now, for I shall be very bad company. _Shuff._ [_Kissing her Hand._] Adieu, Lady Caroline!-- _Lady Car._ Adieu! [_Exit._ _Shuff._ My friend Frank, here, I think, is very much obliged to me!--I am putting matters pretty well _en train_ to disencumber him of a wife;--and now I'll canter over the heath, and see what I can do for him with the brazier's daughter. [_Exit._ SCENE II. _A mean Parlour at the Red Cow._ _A Table--Pen, Ink, and Paper on it.--Chairs._ _MARY and MRS. BRULGRUDDERY discovered._ _Mrs. Brul._ Aye, he might have been there, and back, over and over again;--but my husband's slow enough in his motions, as I tell him, till I'm tir'd on't. _Mary._ I hope he'll be here soon. _Mrs. Brul._ Ods, my little heart! Miss, why so impatient? Hav'n't you as genteel a parlour as any lady in the land could wish to sit down in?--The bed's turn'd up in a chest of drawers that's stain'd to look like mahogany:--there's two poets, and a poll parrot, the best images the jew had on his head, over the mantlepiece; and was I to leave you all alone by yourself, isn't there an eight day clock in the corner, that when one's waiting, lonesome like, for any body, keeps going tick-tack, and is quite company? _Mary._ Indeed, I did not mean to complain. _Mrs. Brul._ Complain?--No, I think not, indeed!--When, besides having a handsome house over your head, the strange gentleman has left two guineas--though one seems light, and t'other looks a little brummish--to be laid out for you, as I see occasion. I don't say it for the lucre of any thing I'm to make out of the money, but, I'm sure you can't want to eat yet. _Mary._ Not if it gives any trouble;--but I was up before sunrise, and have tasted nothing to-day. _Mrs. Brul._ Eh! why, bless me, young woman! ar'n't you well? _Mary._ I feel very faint.