_Tom._ Yes, but in what service? _O’Fi._ Never mind the surrvice, sorr. It was the 27th ridgment of it. That’s enough for any man. There’s many a surrvice besides the British surrvice, I believe, sorr? _Tom._ Oh, I believe there’s a good many. _O’Fi._ There’s the Spanish surrvice, sorr--and the Hungarian surrvice--and the Italian surrvice, and the French surrvice, and the---- _Mat._ And the dinner surrvice. _Tom._ And the Church Service. _O’Fi._ No, sorr. When a gintleman asks me my ridgment, he has a right to know it, and I tell him at once. But when he asks me in what surrvice, sorr, why that’s a piece of impertinent curiosity, and I ask him “what the devil he means by it?” _Tom._ Oh, I’m sure _I_ don’t care; the regiment’s quite enough for _me_. But then I ain’t a capitalist. _O’Fi._ Well, sorr, let us come to the p’int. For two months ye’ve been engaged to my lovely and accomplished daughter---- Don’t cry, my love. (_To MATILDA._) _Mat._ No, pa. (_Takes an egg._) _O’Fi._ And ye’re as far from marrying her as iver. Now during the last two months my poor child’s been wastin’ the best years of her loife, and she can’t wait much longer.--Can ye, Matilda? _Mat._ ’Deed, and I can’t then. I’m twenty-noine and a bit. _O’Fi._ She’s twenty-noine--and a bit! Now it’s roight to tell ye, and you too, Matilda, that a gintleman of good birth, irreproachable morals, and a considerable command of ready money, has done me the honour to propose for me daughter’s hand. I say no more, sorr. As a man of honour there’s two courses open to ye, and I leave ye to decide which of ’em ye’ll take. [_Exit._ _Tom_ (_in great grief_). Matilda, did you hear that? _Mat._ Yes, Tom, I heard that. _Tom_ (_furious_). Who is the scoundrel who has dared to aspire to your hand? _Mat._ ’Deed, and I don’t know, but it’ll be some one who’s lendin’ money to papa. I ginerally go with the bills. _Tom_ (_aghast_). What! _Mat._ When a body falls in love with me, papa ginerally borrows money of him, and he gives bills, and I go with ’em. It’s a rule of the family. (_Rises._) _Tom._ But surely you’ll never countenance such a bargain? _Mat._ ’Deed, and I don’t want to, Tom dear, but I’ve countenanced it for thirteen years, and sure it ’ld look odd to refuse now. Besides, dear, I’m not as young as I was. _Tom._ No, but then you’re not as old as you might be. _Mat._ No, but I’m as old as I mean to be. There’s razin for ye, Tom, and ye want it. _Tom._ Well, I’m sure I don’t know what to do; I’m at my wits’ end. _Mat._ Then it’s the beginning end, and there’s hope for ye yet. (_Knock._) _Tom._ Who’s that? _Mat._ There, now, if it ain’t your friend Whipple’s carriage!