_Bel._ It is a simple process; simple, but yet how beautiful! One thing is certain--Cheviot may marry any day, despite my precautions, and then I shall be penniless. He may die, and equally I shall be penniless. Belinda has £500 a year; it is not much, but it would, at least, save me from starvation. [_Exit BELVAWNEY._ _Enter SYMPERSON and CHEVIOT HILL over bridge. They both show signs of damage--their hats are beaten in and their clothes disordered through the accident._ _Sym._ Well, here we are at last---- _Ch._ Yes; here we are at last, and a pretty state I’m in, to be sure. _Sym._ My dear nephew, you would travel third class, and this is the consequence. After all, there’s not much harm done. _Ch._ Not much harm? What d’ye call that? (_Showing his hat._) Ten and ninepence at one operation! My gloves split--one and four! My coat ruined--eighteen and six! It’s a coarse and brutal nature that recognizes no harm that don’t involve loss of blood. I’m reduced by this accident from a thinking, feeling, reflecting human being, to a moral pulp--a mash--a poultice. Damme, sir, that’s what I am! I’m a poultice! _Sym._ Cheviot, my dear boy, at the moment of the accident you were speaking to me on a very interesting subject. _Ch._ Was I? I forget what it was. The accident has knocked it clean out of my head. _Sym._ You were saying that you were a man of good position and fortune; that you derived £2000 a year from your bank; that you thought it was time you settled. You then reminded me that I should come into Belvawney’s £1000 a year on your marriage, and I’m not sure, but I rather think you mentioned, casually, that my daughter Minnie is an Angel of Light. _Ch._ True, and just then we went off the line. To resume--Uncle Symperson, your daughter Minnie is an Angel of Light, a perfect being, as innocent as a new-laid egg. _Sym._ Minnie is, indeed, all that you have described her. _Ch._ Uncle, I’m a man of few words. I feel and I speak. I love that girl, madly, passionately, irresistibly. She is my whole life, my whole soul and body, my Past, my Present, and my To Come. I have thought for none but her; she fills my mind, sleeping and waking; she is the essence of every hope--the tree upon which the fruit of my heart is growing--my own To Come! _Sym._ (_who has sunk overpowered on to stool during this speech_). Cheviot, my dear boy, excuse a father’s tears. I won’t beat about the bush. You have anticipated my devoutest wish. Cheviot, my dear boy, take her, she is yours! _Ch._ I have often heard of rapture, but I never knew what it was till now. Uncle Symperson, bearing in mind the fact that your income will date from the day of the wedding, when may this be?