MRS. HARDCASTLE. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I shan’t be easy, however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own fortune. But what do I see? fondling together, as I’m alive. I never saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves? What, billing, exchanging stolen glances and broken murmurs? Ah! TONY. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure. But there’s no love lost between us. MRS. HARDCASTLE. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter. MISS NEVILLE. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed, he shan’t leave us any more. It won’t leave us, cousin Tony, will it? TONY. O! it’s a pretty creature. No, I’d sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming. MISS NEVILLE. Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless (patting his cheek)--ah! it’s a bold face. MRS. HARDCASTLE. Pretty innocence! TONY. I’m sure I always loved cousin Con.’s hazle eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins. MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I was never so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con., shall be yours incontinently. You shall have them. Isn’t he a sweet boy, my dear? You shall be married to-morrow, and we’ll put off the rest of his education, like Dr. Drowsy’s sermons, to a fitter opportunity. Enter DIGGORY. DIGGORY. Where’s the ’squire? I have got a letter for your worship. TONY. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first. DIGGORY. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands. TONY. Who does it come from? DIGGORY. Your worship mun ask that o’ the letter itself. TONY. I could wish to know though (turning the letter, and gazing on it). MISS NEVILLE. (Aside.) Undone! undone! A letter to him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined for ever. I’ll keep her employed a little if I can. (To MRS. HARDCASTLE.) But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin’s smart answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laughed.--You must know, madam.--This way a little, for he must not hear us. [They confer.] TONY. (Still gazing.) A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here are such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail.--“To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire.” It’s very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough; but when I come to open it, it’s all----buzz. That’s hard, very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.