_Sir C._ [_Aside._] Two thousand a-year to Clifford! It's a pity, for the parade of disinterestedness, that he opened his designs upon Emily, before he knew his pretensions. _Lady E._ [_Aside._] Now, if there were twenty ceilings, and as many floors, could not I find a spot to settle my silly looks upon. [_SIR CLEMENT observes her with his usual Shyness._ _Sir C._ [_Turning towards ALSCRIP._] Palm a false title upon me? I should have thought the attempt beyond the collective assurance of Westminster-hall--and he takes the loss as much to heart as if he bought the estate with his own money. _Alscrip._ [_With Hesitation._] Sir Clement--what think you--of an amicable adjustment of all these businesses? _Sir C._ [_Ironically._] Nothing can be more reasonable. The value of Miss Alscrip's amiable disposition, placed against the abatement of her fortune, is a matter of the most easy computation; and to decide the portion, Mr. Clifford ought to relinquish of his acquisition--Lady Emily--will you be a referée? _Lady E._ [_Aside._] Yes, the lynx has me--I thought I should not escape.--[_To him._] No, sir; my poor abilities only extend to an amicable endeavour here. [_To MISS ALSCRIP._] And really, Miss Alscrip, I see no reason for your being dispirited; there may be many ready-made titles at market, within the reach of your purse. Or, why should not a woman of your consequence originate her own splendour? there's an old admirer of mine--He would make a very pretty lord--and indeed, would contribute something on his own part, to ease the purchase--The Blandish family is well with all administrations, and a new coronet is always as big again as an old one. I don't see how you could lay out part of your independency to more advantage. _Blandish._ [_Aside._] Yes, but since flaws are in fashion, I shall look a little into things before I agree to the bargain. _Miss Als._ [_Aside._] I'll die before I'll discover my vexation--and yet, [_Half crying._] no title--no place. _Lady E._ Depend upon it, Miss Alscrip, your place will be found exactly where it ought to be. The public eye, in this country, is never long deceived--Believe me--and cherish obscurity--Title may bring forward merits, but it also places our defects in horrid relief. _Alscrip._ Molly, the sooner we get out of court the better--we have damnably the worst of this cause, so come along, Molly--[_Taking her under the Arm._]--and farewell to Berkeley Square. Whoever wants Alscrip House, will find it in the neighbourhood of Furnival's Inn, with the noble title of Scrivener, in capitals--Blank bonds at the windows, and a brass knocker at the door. [_Pulling her._] Come along, Molly.