_Pereg._ Whisper the secret to yourself, Sir Simon; and let reason also whisper to you, that, when honest industry raises a family to opulence and honours, its very original lowness sheds lustre on its elevation;--but all its glory fades, when it has given a wound, and denies a balsam, to a man, as humble, and as honest, as your own ancestor. _Sir Simon._ But I haven't given the wound.--And why, good sir, won't you be pleased to speak your sentiments! [_To FRANK, who has retired, during the above Conversation, to the Back of the Room._ _Frank._ The first are, obedience to my father, sir; and, if I must proceed, I own that nothing, in my mind, but the amplest atonement, can extinguish true remorse for a cruelty. _Sir Simon._ Ha! in other words, you can't clap an extinguisher upon your feelings, without a father-in-law who can sell you one. But Lady Caroline Braymore is your wife, or I am no longer your father. _Enter TOM SHUFFLETON and LADY CAROLINE BRAYMORE._ _Shuff._ How d'ye do, good folks? How d'ye do? _Sir Simon._ Ha! Lady Caroline!--Tom, I have had a little business.--The last dinner-bell has rung, Lady Caroline; but I'll attend you directly. _Shuff._ Baronet, I'm afraid we sha'n't be able to dine with you to-day. _Sir Simon._ Not dine with me! _Lady Car._ No;--we are just married! _Sir Simon._ Hell and the devil! married! _Shuff._ Yes; we are married, and can't come. _Pereg._ [_Aside._] Then 'tis time to speak to old Thornberry. [_Exit._ _Sir Simon._ Lady Caroline! _Lady Car._ I lost my appetite in your family this morning, Sir Simon; and have no relish for any thing you can have the goodness to offer me. _Shuff._ Don't press us, baronet;--that's quite out, in the New School. _Sir Simon._ Oh, damn the New School!--who will explain all this mystery? _Frank._ Mr. Shuffleton shall explain it, sir; and other mysteries too. _Shuff._ My dear Frank, I have something to say to you. But here comes my papa; I've been talking to him, Sir Simon, and he'll talk to you. He does very well to explain, for the benefit of a country gentleman. _Enter LORD FITZ BALAAM._ _Sir Simon._ My Lord, it is painful to be referred to you, when so much is to be said. What is it all? _Lord Fitz._ You are disappointed, Sir Simon, and I am ruin'd. _Sir Simon._ But, my lord---- [_They go up the Stage._ [_LADY CAROLINE throws herself carelessly into a Chair. SHUFFLETON advances to FRANK._ _Shuff._ My dear Frank, I----I have had a devilish deal of trouble in getting this business off your hands. But you see, I have done my best for you. _Frank._ For yourself, you mean. _Shuff._ Come, damn it, my good fellow, don't be ungrateful to a friend.