_Poly._ My dear Charles, I will encounter anything for your sake: whatever may befal me, I swear not to betray your interests. This will be a sad disappointment to your father. You must allow me a few days to consider the best mode of breaking the affair to him. But where have you left your—it was only this morning I rapped his knuckles for a false quantity—your wife? _Charles._ Left her? She’s here! _Poly._ What, here! in the house? _Charles._ In my father’s study, in the garden. Taking advantage of his absence, I have, for many days, concealed her there; but his sudden return compels me to seek some other retreat for her. Aided by the growing darkness, I have removed her. She is waiting there in the garden. I will confide her to your care. _Poly._ Hold, hold! Confide a woman to my care! _Charles._ Ay; your apartment is the most secure. No one will suspect that a female is concealed there. (_Runs towards the garden._) Harriet, Harriet! This way. _Poly._ (_In great consternation._) Stay—what would you do? Should she be discovered here, I’m ruined, undone!—Oh! she’s here! _Enter_ HARRIET. _Charles._ Fear nothing, my darling love; this is our best friend. _Harriet._ In what terms can we express our gratitude, sir? _Poly._ Indeed, miss—mistress—my good lady, I—my head is turning—But, tell me, Charles, how did you contrive, without my knowledge, to— _Charles._ My wife will explain all to you. In the mean time I’ll keep watch without. Should my father take us by surprise, all will be lost. My good, kind friend, I confide to your care all I value in the world—my own dear Harriet. _Poly._ Why—why—you would not leave me alone with her? _Charles._ (_Not attending to him._) Be composed, love; all will be well. [_Exit._ _Poly._ Charles, Charles! Don’t leave me alone with her. _Harriet._ Once more, sir, let me thank you for your kindness. _Poly._ (_Avoiding her._) Thank me, indeed! Oh! if you knew— _Harriet._ But why that angry look? Would you abandon us? In your friendship, and my husband’s love, is now my only hope. _Poly._ What touching accents! I never before—’Twas with tones like these the serpent must have seduced my poor innocent boy. (_Severely._) It is my duty, miss—my duty, madam, to remind you that the step you have taken is—(_She looks abashed._)—Not that I would say anything to give you pain, but—tell me who you are, my dear. _Harriet._ The daughter of Colonel Mowbray, who, dying five years ago, left me without fortune, without friends, without a protector. I sought an asylum in the neighbouring village, and soon afterwards became acquainted with Mr. Eustace. You know his worth, and can you wonder if—