MISS FOSTER. Well, well, and very right. That was the old school of service, Barbara, which you would do well to imitate. This is a child, Menteith, that I am trying to form. MENTEITH. Quite so, madam. MISS FOSTER. And are we soon to see our princely guest, Menteith? MENTEITH. His Royal Highness, madam? I believe I may say quite so. Mr. George will receive our gallant prince upon the Pantiles (_looking at his watch_) in, I should say, a matter of twelve minutes from now. Such, madam, is Mr. George’s order of the day. BARBARA. I beg your pardon, madam, I am sure, but are we really to see one of His Majesty’s own brothers? That will be pure! O madam, this is better than Carlisle. MISS FOSTER. The wood-note wild: a loyal Cumbrian, Menteith. MENTEITH. Eh? Quite so, madam. MISS FOSTER. When she has seen as much of the Royal Family as you, my good fellow, she will find it vastly less entertaining. MENTEITH. Yes, madam, indeed; In these distinguished circles, life is but a slavery. None of the best set would relish Tunbridge without Mr. George; Tunbridge and Mr. George (if you’ll excuse my plainness, madam) are in a manner of speaking identified; and indeed it was the Dook’s desire alone that brought us here. BARBARA. What? the Duke? O dear! was it for that? MENTEITH. Though, to be sure, madam, Mr. George would always be charmed to find himself (_bowing_) among so many admired members of his own set. MISS FOSTER. Upon my word, Menteith, Mr. Austin is as fortunate in his servant as his reputation. MENTEITH. Quite so, madam. But let me observe that the opportunities I have had of acquiring a knowledge of Mr. George’s character have been positively unrivalled. Nobody knows Mr. George like his old attendant. The goodness of that gentleman—but, madam, you will soon be equally fortunate, if, as I understand, it is to be a match. MISS FOSTER. I hope, Menteith, you are not taking leave of your senses. Is it possible you mean my niece? MENTEITH. Madam, I have the honour to congratulate you. I put a second curl in Mr. George’s hair on purpose. SCENE II _To these_, AUSTIN. MENTEITH _falls back_, _and_ AUSTIN _takes his place in front of_ MISS FOSTER, _his attitude a counterpart of_ MENTEITH’S. AUSTIN. Madam, I hasten to present my homage. MISS FOSTER. A truce to compliments! Menteith, your charming fellow there, has set me positively crazy. Dear George Austin, is it true? can it be true? AUSTIN. Madam, if he has been praising your niece he has been well inspired. If he was speaking, as I spoke an hour ago myself, I wish, Miss Foster, that he had held his tongue. I have indeed offered myself to Miss Dorothy, and she, with the most excellent reason, has refused me. MISS FOSTER. Is it possible? why, my dear George Austin . . . then I suppose it is John Fenwick after all! AUSTIN. Not one of us is worthy.