MISS FOSTER. This is the most amazing circumstance. You take my breath away. My niece refuse George Austin? why, I give you my word, I thought she had adored you. A perfect scandal: it positively must not get abroad. AUSTIN. Madam, for that young lady I have a singular regard. Judge me as tenderly as you can, and set it down, if you must, to an old man’s vanity—for, Evelina, we are no longer in the heyday of our youth—judge me as you will: I should prefer to have it known. MISS FOSTER. Can you? George Austin, you? My youth was nothing; I was a failure; but for you? no, George, you never can, you never must be old. You are the triumph of my generation, George, and of our old friendship too. Think of my first dance and my first partner. And to have this story—no, I could not bear to have it told of you. AUSTIN. Madam, there are some ladies over whom it is a boast to have prevailed; there are others whom it is a glory to have loved. And I am so vain, dear Evelina, that even thus I am proud to link my name with that of Dorothy Musgrave. MISS FOSTER. George, you are changed. I would not know you. AUSTIN. I scarce know myself. But pardon me, dear friend (_taking his watch_), in less than four minutes our illustrious guest will descend amongst us; and I observe Mr. Fenwick, with whom I have a pressing business. Suffer me, dear Evelina!— SCENE III _To these_, FENWICK. MISS FOSTER _remains seated_, _L._ AUSTIN _goes R. to_ FENWICK, _whom he salutes with great respect_ AUSTIN. Mr. Fenwick, I have played and lost. That noble lady, justly incensed at my misconduct, has condemned me. Under the burden of such a loss, may I console myself with the esteem of Mr. Fenwick? FENWICK. She refused you? Pardon me, sir, but was the fault not yours? AUSTIN. Perhaps to my shame, I am no novice, Mr. Fenwick; but I have never felt nor striven as to-day. I went upon your errand; but, you may trust me, sir, before I had done I found it was my own. Until to-day I never rightly valued her; sure, she is fit to be a queen. I have a remorse here at my heart to which I am a stranger. Oh! that was a brave life, that was a great heart that I have ruined. FENWICK. Ay, sir, indeed. AUSTIN. But, sir, it is not to lament the irretrievable that I intrude myself upon your leisure. There is something to be done, to save, at least to spare, that lady. You did not fail to observe the brother? FENWICK. No, sir, he knows all; and being both intemperate and ignorant—