_Charles._ The devil she has!--and pray now are you of opinion that my return is the cause of her ill-humour? _Tiffany._ Lord, sir--what interest have I in knowing such things?-- _Charles._ Interest!--oh, ho! the old story! why harkye, my dear--your mistress has a lord for her lover, so I suppose he has secured a warmer interest than I can afford to purchase--however, I know the custom, and thus I comply with it, in hopes you will tell me whether you really think my return has caused your young mistress' ill-humour----(_gives money_). _Tiffany._ A guinea! well! I declare! why really, sir--when I say Miss Helen has been out of humour on your account, I don't mean to say it is on account of your _return_, but on account of your going away again-- _Charles._ No! my dear Tiffany! _Tiffany._ And I am sure I don't wonder at her being cross about it, for if I was my mistress I never would listen with patience (any more than she does) to such a disagreeable creature as my lord, while such a generous nice gentleman as you was ready to make love to me. _Charles._ You couldn't? _Tiffany._ No, sir--and I'm sure she's quite altered and melancholy gone since you quarrelled with her, and she vows now more than ever that she never will consent to marry my lord, or any body but you--(_Helen comes forward gently._) _Charles._ My dear Tiffany!--let me catch the sounds from your rosy lips. (_Kisses her_)-- _Helen._ (_separating them_) Bless me! I am afraid I interrupt business here! _Charles._ I--I--I--Upon my soul, Madam--what you saw was-- _Tiffany._ Ye--ye--yes--upon my word, ma'am--what you saw was-- _Helen._ What I saw was very clear indeed!-- _Charles._ Hear me but explain--you do not understand.-- _Helen._ I rather think I _do_ understand. _Tiffany._ Indeed, Ma'am, Mr. Charles was only _whispering_ something I was to tell you-- _Helen._ And pray, ma'am, do you suffer gentlemen in general to whisper in that fashion?--what do you stand stammering and blushing there for?--why don't you go? _Tiffany._ Yes, ma'am,--but I assure you-- _Helen._ What! you stay to be whispered to again, I suppose. [_Exit Tiffany._ _Charles._ Let me explain this,--oh, Helen--can you be surprised? _Helen._ No, sir, I can't be surprised at any thing after what I have just witnessed-- _Charles._ On my soul, it was excess of joy at hearing you still lov'd me, that led me into this confounded scrape. _Helen._ Sir, you should not believe it--I don't love you. I wont love you,--and after what I have just seen, you can't expect I should love you-- _Charles._ Helen! Helen! you make no allowance for the fears of a man who loves you to distraction. I have borne a great deal, and can bear but very little more-- _Helen._ Poor man! you're sadly loaded with grievances, to be sure; and by and by, I suppose, like a horse or a mule, or some such stubborn animal, having more than you can bear, you'll kick a little, and plunge a little, and then down on your _knees_ again!