_St. Louis._ Fort bien Monsieur. (_Enter_ SIR ROBERT) _Sir Robert._ I don't like all these strange doings here in my House. But come, come, Harriet, I must desire you to show this Lady into the next Room. Here's your Father coming upstairs, and he desires to have a little private conversation with my Son. _Lady Betty._ So mon pauvre Marquis, they are going to make you a mere John Trott of an English Husband, sullenly civil to your Spouse, and morosely disobliging to the rest of the World--so a l'honneur, I leave you to your Tête à tête. Ma'm'selle Harriet, a good Evening, you shall certainly have one of my faces, and the Receipt--but I must run away to the Sorethroatini. (_Exit_) _Sir Robert._ Now Jack, be upon your Guard--why don't those French Fellows get out of the Room? Go down Stairs Monsieur. I wou'd not have Mr. Quicksett see 'em for the world. Mr. Quicksett has his oddities, Jack, and hates the French so at this Juncture, that he wou'd willingly pay half his Estate in Taxes, to help 'em to a good drubbing, but be upon your guard, and talk discreetly. _Jack._ Had not I better get St. Louis to arrange my dress before I receive the Gentleman's Visit? _Sir Robert._ No, no, you must show no French Airs--he is willing to settle his Estate on his Daughter--and I long to have the Match concluded--so take care you don't spoil all. Here he comes. (_Enter_ QUICKSETT) Mr. Quicksett, this is my Son--Son, this is Mr. Quicksett, and so now I'll leave you together. (_Exit_) _Quicksett._ Ay, he answers the Description I had of him. _Jack._ Pardie, voila un droll de figure--I wish I was dress'd out that I might make the Man of Quality for him--but I'll shew him a pretty Gentleman as it is. Monsieur, votre tres humble--your commands with me, Sir. _Quicksett._ (_Takes a chair and sits_) Why look ye young Man, your Father is my old Acquaintance, and as he propos'd this Match, I had as soon marry my Daughter into Sir Robert Broughton's Family, as any at all--but I then must not throw my Girl away and I must like the Man before I settle her for Life do you see? _Jack._ Ma foi, voila un homme sans façon, sans Ceremonie--I'll sit down too. (_Draws a chair_) _Quicksett._ But your French Education, young Gentleman, I am afraid won't recommend you to me. Odds my Life, it seems to have made a downright coxcomb of you. _Jack._ Mr. Quicksett, if you are for indulging your Raillery, I shall be oblig'd to you--I love Raillery of all things--it is to me a party of pleasure, but prenez garde a vous--take care Mr. Quicksett. My Raillery is so brisk, it is like your fire Arms that discharge I don't know how often in a minute--Pi! Pa! Pauf! _Quicksett._ Yes, it's just as I heard. (_Aside_)