_Whi._ The ugly one, of course. _Tom._ I don’t see what you’re driving at. _Whi._ Don’t you? Why, if Tom Cobb’s dead and buried, what becomes of the bill Tom Cobb gave Ben Isaacs? _Tom._ But the ugly Tom Cobb never gave a bill. (_A light breaks upon him._) Oh, you cunning devil! _Whi._ Now then, what d’ye say to dying by deputy? _Tom._ By Jove, it’s worth thinking of. _Whi._ Worth thinking of? It’s worth jumping at without stopping to think at all. _Tom._ I believe you’re right. (_After a pause._) I’ll do it! I’m a dead man! I can come to life again, I suppose, when I like? _Whi._ Oh yes, under another name. But you’ll have to hide away for a few months. _Tom._ Oh, ah; but (_turning out his pockets_) how about burial fees? _Whi._ Will five and twenty pounds do it? _Tom._ Five and twenty pounds will just do it. _Whi._ Then come along at once to my house, and take leave of this life. _Tom._ But you’ll let me take a last farewell of Matilda? _Whi._ No, no; bother Matilda! (_Taking his arm._) _Tom._ Oh, but you mustn’t bother Matilda! _Whi._ Now, now, do come along. _Tom._ Hang it all, let me see her before the tomb closes over me for three months! _Whi._ No, you can write to her; now, come at once, or I won’t help you. _Tom._ Then farewell, Matilda; I go to my doom. Whipple, during my decease I confide her to you. Be a mother to her. (_Kissing photograph._) Farewell, unhappy Matilda; be true to my memory, for I’m as good as dead, and you’re engaged to a body! (_He staggers out wildly, followed by WHIPPLE.)_ _Enter MATILDA._ _Mat._ Now, where’s he gone with Whipple, I’d like to know? That Whipple’s up to some bedevilment with him, I’ll go bail. _Enter BIDDY._ _Bid._ Please, miss, here’s a young lady as says she must see you, and won’t take no denial. _Mat._ A young lady? _Enter CAROLINE, in great agitation. She is a romantic-looking young lady, with long curls and gushing, poetical demeanour. She pauses melodramatically._ _Car._ Matilda! Don’t ye know me? _Mat._ ’Deed, and I don’t. Why, if it isn’t my old schoolfellow, Carrie Effingham! It’s Carrie, as I’m a living sinner! _Car._ Yes; I came to town yesterday; and though ten long weary years have flown since last we met, I could not pass my dear old friend’s abode without one effort to awake those slumbering chords that, struck in unison, ever found ready echoes in our sister hearts. _Mat._ Why, ye talk nonsense as well as ever, dear; but I’m glad to see ye. (_She sits. CAROLINE kneels at her feet._) _Car._ How well--how very well you’re looking--and, heavens! how lovely! _Mat._ Yes, dear. Ye’re lookin’ older. Ye’re not married yet, I suppose? _Car._ Alas, no! (_Wiping her eyes._) _Mat._ Don’t fret, dear; it’ll come. _Car._ Oh, Matilda, a maiden’s heart should be as free as the summer sun itself; and it’s sad when, in youth’s heyday, its trilling gladness has been trodden underfoot by the iron-shod heel of a serpent!