_Mr. Burs._ (_eating and speaking_). Yes, that I can, child; because he is with his ’orses, where he ought to be. ’Tis fit they should be looked after well; for they cost me a pretty penny—more than their heads are worth, and yours into the bargain; but I was resolved, as we were to come to this Montem, to come in style. _Miss Burs._ In style, to be sure; for all the world’s to be here—the King, the Prince of W_h_ales, and Duke o’ York, and all the first people; and we shall cut a dash! Dash! dash! will be the word to-morrow!—(_playing with her whip_). _Mr. Burs._ (_aside_). Dash! dash! ay, just like her brother. He’ll pay away finely, I warrant, by the time he’s her age. Well, well, he can afford it; and I do love to see my children make a figure for their money. As Jack Bursal says, what’s money for, if it e’nt to make a figure. (_Aloud_). There’s your brother Jack, now. The extravagant dog! he’ll have such a dress as never was seen, I suppose, at this here Montem. Why, now, Jack Bursal spends more money at Eton, and has more to spend, than my Lord John, though my Lord John’s the son of a marchioness. _Miss Burs._ Oh, that makes no difference nowadays. I wonder whether her ladyship is to be at this Montem. The only good I ever got out of these stupid Talbots was an introduction to their friend Lady Piercefield. What she could find to like in the Talbots, heaven knows. I’ve a notion she’ll drop them, when she hears of the loss of the Bombay Castle. _Enter a_ WAITER, _with a note_. _Waiter_. A note from my Lady Piercefield, sir. _Miss B._ Charming woman! Is she here, pray, sir? _Waiter_. Just come. Yes, ma’am. (_Exit Waiter_.) _Miss B._ Well, Mr. Bursal, what is it? _Mr. B._ (_reads_). “Business of importance to communicate—” Hum! what can it be?—(_going_). _Miss B._ (_aside_). Perhaps some match to propose for me! (_Aloud_). Mr. Bursal, pray before you go to her ladyship, do send my _ooman_ to me to make me presentable. (_Exit Miss Bursal at one door_.) _Mr. B._ (_at the opposite door_). “Business of importance!” Hum! I’m glad I’m prepared with a good basin of soup. There’s no doing business well upon an empty stomach. Perhaps the business is to lend cash; and I’ve no great stomach for that. But it will be an honour, to be sure. (_Exit_.) SCENE III. _Landlady’s Parlour_. LANDLADY—MR. FINSBURY, a man-milliner, with bandboxes—a fancy cap, or helmet, with feathers, in the Landlady’s hand—a satin bag, covered with gold netting, in the man-milliner’s hand—a mantle hanging over his arm. A rough looking Farmer is sitting with his back towards them, eating bread and cheese, and reading a newspaper.