_First produced at the Prince of Wales Theatre, under the management of MISS MARIE WILTON, Saturday, November 7th, 1874._ CHARACTERS. MR. HARRY SPREADBROW { Age 21 in Act I. } MR. COGHLAN. { Age 51 in Act II. } WILCOX, _a Gardener_ MR. GLOVER. MISS JENNY NORTHCOTT { Age 18 in Act I. } MISS M. WILTON. { Age 48 in Act II. } (MRS. BANCROFT.) RUTH, _a Maidservant_ MISS PLOWDEN. SWEETHEARTS. ACT I. DATE--1844. SCENE.--_The Garden of a pretty Country Villa, The house is new, and the garden shows signs of having been recently laid out; the shrubs are small, and the few trees about are moderate in size; small creepers are trained against the house; an open country in the distance; a little bridge over a stream forms the entrance to the garden._ _WILCOX is discovered seated on edge of garden wheelbarrow, preparing his “bass” for tying up plants; he rises and comes down with sycamore sapling in his hand; it is carefully done up in matting, and has a direction label attached to it._ _Wil._ (_reading the label_). “For Miss Northcott, with Mr. Spreadbrow’s kindest regards.” “_Acer Pseudo Platanus._” Ay, Ay! sycamore, I suppose, though it ain’t genteel to say so. Humph! sycamores are common enough in these parts; there ain’t no call, as I can see, to send a hundred and twenty mile for one. Ah, Mr. Spreadbrow, no go--no go; it ain’t to be done with “_Acer Pseudo Platanuses_.” Miss Jenny’s sent better men nor you about their business afore this, and as you’re agoin’ about your’n of your own free will to-night, and a good long way too, why I says, no go, no go! If I know Miss Jenny, she’s a good long job, and you’ve set down looking at your work too long; and now that it’s come to going, you’ll need to hurry it; and Miss Jenny ain’t a job to be hurried over, bless her. Take another three months, and I don’t say there mightn’t be a chance for you; but it’ll take all that--ah, thank goodness, it’ll take all that! _Enter JENNY from behind the house, prepared for gardening._ _Jen._ Well, Wilcox, what have you got there? (_He touches his forehead and gives her the sycamore._) Not my sycamore? _Wil._ Yes, miss; Mr. Spreadbrow left it last night as the mail passed. _Jen._ Then he’s returned already? Why, he was not expected for a week, at least. _Wil._ He returned quite sudden last night, and left this here plant, with a message that he would call at twelve o’clock to-day, miss. _Jen._ I shall be very glad to see him. So this is really a shoot of the dear old tree! _Wil._ Come all the way from Lunnon, too. There’s lots of ’em hereabouts, miss; I could ha’ got you a armful for the asking. _Jen._ Yes, I dare say; but this comes from the dear old house at Hampstead. _Wil._ Do it, now?