_Miss T._ Ah, Cheviot! do not judge us harshly. We love you with a reckless fervour that thrills us to the very marrow--don’t we, darling? But the hours crept heavily without you, and when, to lighten the gloom in which we were plunged, the kindly creature swallowed a live rabbit and brought it out, smothered in onions, from his left boot, we could not choose but smile. The good soul has promised to teach _me_ the trick. _Ch._ Has he? That’s his confounded impudence. Now, once for all, I’ll have nothing of this kind. One of you will be my wife, and until I know which, I will permit no Belvawneying of any kind whatever, or anything approaching thereto. When that is settled, the other may Belvawney until she is black in the face. _Miss T._ And how long have we to wait before we shall know which of us may begin Belvawneying? _Ch._ I can’t say. It may be some time. The McQuibbigaskie has gone to Central Africa. No post can reach him, and he will not return for six years. _Miss T._ Six years! Oh, I cannot wait six years! Why in six years I shall be eight-and-twenty! _Min._ Six years! Why, in six years the Statute of Limitations will come in, and he can renounce us both. _Miss T._ True; you are quite right. (_To Cheviot._) Cheviot, I have loved you madly, desperately, as other woman never loved other man. This poor inexperienced child, who clings to me as the ivy clings to the oak, also loves you as woman never loved before. Even that poor cottage maiden, whose rustic heart you so recklessly enslaved, worships you with a devotion that has no parallel in the annals of the heart. In return for all this unalloyed affection, all we ask of you is that you will recommend us to a respectable solicitor. _Ch._ But, my dear children, reflect--I can’t marry all three. I am most willing to consider myself engaged to all three, and that’s as much as the law will allow. You see I do all I can. I’d marry all three of you with pleasure, if I might; but, as our laws stand at present, I’m sorry to say--I’m very sorry to say--it’s out of the question. [_Exit CHEVIOT._ _Miss T._ Poor fellow. He has my tenderest sympathy; but we have no alternative but to place ourselves under the protecting ægis of a jury of our countrymen! _Enter SYMPERSON, with two letters._ _Sym._ Minnie--Miss Treherne--the post has just brought me two letters; one of them bears a Marseilles post-mark, and is, I doubt not, from the McQuibbigaskie! He must have written just before starting for Central Africa! _Min._ From the McQuibbigaskie? Oh, read, read! _Miss T._ Oh, sir! how can you torture us by this delay? Have you no curiosity?