_Handy, jun._ A singular situation this my old dad has placed me in; brought me here to marry a woman of fashion and beauty, while I have been professing, and I've a notion feeling, the most ardent love for the pretty Susan Ashfield--Propriety says, take Miss Blandford--Love says, take Susan--Fashion says, take both--but would Susan consent to such an arrangement?--and if she refused, would I consent to part with her?--Oh, time enough to put that question, when the previous one is disposed of--[_Seeing_ DAME.] How do you do? How do you do?--Making lace, I perceive--Is it a common employment, here? _Dame._ Oh, no, sir? nobody can make it in these parts but myself!--Mrs. Grundy, indeed, pretends--but, poor woman! she knows no more of it than you do. _Handy, jun._ Than I do! that's vastly well;--My dear madam, I passed two months at Mechlin for the express purpose. _Dame._ Indeed! _Handy, jun._ You don't do it right--now I can do it much better than that. Give me leave, and I'll shew you the true Mechlin method [_Turns the cushion round, kneels down, and begins working._] First you see, so--then, so-- _Enter_ SIR ABEL, _and_ MISS BLANDFORD. _Sir Abel._ I vow, Miss Blandford, fair as I ever thought you, the air of your native land has given additional lustre to your charms!--[_Aside._] If my wife looked so--Ah! but where can Bob be?--You must know, miss, my son is a very clever fellow! you won't find him wasting his time in boyish frivolity!--no; you will find him-- [_Sees him._ _Miss B._ Is that your son, sir? _Sir Abel._ [_Abashed._] Yes, that's Bob! _Miss B._ Pray, sir, is he making lace, or is he making love? _Sir Abel._ Curse me if I can tell. [_Hits him with his stick._] Get up, you dog! don't you see Miss Blandford? _Handy, jun._ [_Starting up._] Zounds! how unlucky! Ma'am, your most obedient servant. [_Endeavours to hide the work._] Curse the cushion! [_Throws it off._ _Dame._ Oh! he has spoiled my lace! _Handy, jun._ Hush! I'll make you a thousand yards another time--You see, ma'am, I was explaining to this good woman--what--what need not be explained again--Admirably handsome, by Heaven! [_Aside._ _Sir Abel._ Is not she, Bob? _Handy, jun._ [_To_ MISS B.] In your journey from the coast, I conclude you took London in your way? Hush! [_To_ DAME. _Miss B._ Oh no, sir, I could not so soon venture into the _beau monde_; a stranger just arrived from Germany-- _Handy, jun._ The very reason--the most fashionable introduction possible! but I perceive, sir, you have here imitated other German importations, and only restored to us our native excellence. _Miss B._ I assure you, sir, I am eager to seize my birthright, the pure and envied immunities of an English woman!