_Sus_. Them's for Bill and me, sir. I was a goin' on, sir.--And, Bill, a chop--a nice chop. But Lord! how are we to cook it, with never a fryin'-pan, or a bit o' fire to set it on! _Col. G._ You'd never think of doing a chop for an invalid in the frying-pan? _Sus_. Certainly not, sir--we 'ain't got one. Everything's up the spout an' over the top. Run, Bill. A bit of cold chicken, and two pints o' bottled stout. There's the money the gen'leman give me.--'T 'ain't no Miss Lackodare's, Mattie. _Bill_. I'll trouble no gen'leman to perwide for _my_ family--obleeged all the same, sir. Mattie never wos a dub at dewourin', but I'll get her some'at toothsome. I favours grub myself. _Col. G._ I'll go with you, Bill. I want to talk to you. _Bill_. Well, I 'ain't no objection--so be you wants to talk friendly, sir. _Col. G._ Good night. I'll come and see you to-morrow. _Sus_. God bless you, sir. You've saved both on our lives. I _was_ a goin' to drown myself, Mattie--I really was this time. Wasn't I, sir? _Col. G._ Well, you looked like it--that is all I can say. You shall do it next time--so far as I'm concerned. _Sus_. I won't never no more again, sir--not if Mattie don't drive me to it. _Con_. (_to_ COL. G.). Come back for me in a little while. _Col. G._ Yes, miss. Come, Bill. _Exit_. _Bill_. All right, sir. I'm a follerin', as the cat said to the pigeon. _Exit_. _Sus_. I'll just go and get you a cup o' tea. Mrs. Jones's kettle's sure to be a bilin'. That's what you would like. _Exit_. _Constance steps aside, and Susan passes without seeing her_. _Mat_. Oh! to be a baby again in my mother's arms! But it'll soon be over now. CONSTANCE _comes forward_. _Con_. I hope you're a little better now? _Mat_. You're very kind, miss; and I beg your pardon for speaking to you as I did. _Con_. Don't say a word about it. You didn't quite know what you were saying. I'm in trouble myself. I don't know how soon I may be worse off than you. _Mat_. Why, miss, I thought you were going to be married! _Con_. No, I am not. _Mat_. Why, miss, what's happened. He's never going to play _you_ false--is he? _Con_. I don't mean ever to speak to him again? _Mat_. What has he done to offend you, miss? _Con_. Nothing. Only I know now I don't like him. To tell you the truth, Mattie, he's not a gentleman. _Mat_. Not a gentleman, miss! How dare you say so? _Con_. Do _you_ know anything about him? Did you ever see him? _Mat_. Yes. _Con_. Where? _Mat_. Once at your house. _Con_. Oh! I remember--that time! I begin to--It couldn't be at the sight of him you fainted, Mattie?--You knew him? Tell me! tell me! Make me sure of it. _Mat_. To give you your revenge! No. It's a mean spite to say he ain't a gentleman. _Con_. Perhaps you and I have different ideas of what goes to make a gentleman. _Mat_. Very likely. _Con_. Oh! don't be vexed, Mattie. I didn't mean to hurt you. _Mat_. Oh! I dare say! _Con_. If you talk to me like that, I must go.