LADY K.--Does any one dine here to-day, Howell? JOHN.--Captain Touchit, my lady. LADY K.--He's always dining here. JOHN.--My master's oldest friend. LADY K.--Don't tell me. He comes from his club. He smells of smoke; he is a low, vulgar person. Send Pinhorn up to me when you go down stairs. [Exit Lady K.] JOHN.--I know. Send Pinhorn to me, means, Send my bonny brown hair, and send my beautiful complexion, and send my figure--and, O Lord! O Lord! what an old tigress that is! What an old Hector! How she do twist Milliken round her thumb! He's born to be bullied by women: and I remember him henpecked--let's see, ever since--ever since the time of that little gloveress at Woodstock, whose picter poor Mrs. M. made such a noise about when she found it in the lumber-room. Heh! HER picture will be going into the lumber-room some day. M. must marry to get rid of his mother-in-law and mother over him: no man can stand it, not M. himself, who's a Job of a man. Isn't he, look at him! [As he has been speaking, the bell has rung, the Page has run to the garden-door, and MILLIKEN enters through the garden, laden with a hamper, band-box, and cricket-bat.] MILLIKEN.--Why was the carriage not sent for me, Howell? There was no cab at the station, and I have had to toil all the way up the hill with these confounded parcels of my lady's. JOHN.--I suppose the shower took off all the cabs, sir. When DID a man ever git a cab in a shower?--or a policeman at a pinch--or a friend when you wanted him--or anything at the right time, sir? MILLIKEN.--But, sir, why didn't the carriage come, I say? JOHN.--YOU know. MILLIKEN.--How do you mean I know? confound your impudence! JOHN.--Lady Kicklebury took it--your mother-in-law took it--went out a-visiting--Ham Common, Petersham, Twick'nam--doose knows where. She, and her footman, and her span'l dog. MILLIKEN.--Well, sir, suppose her ladyship DID take the carriage? Hasn't she a perfect right? And if the carriage was gone, I want to know, John, why the devil the pony-chaise wasn't sent with the groom? Am I to bring a bonnet-box and a hamper of fish in my own hands, I should like to know? JOHN.--Heh! [laughs.] MILLIKEN.--Why do you grin, you Cheshire cat? JOHN.--Your mother-in-law had the carriage; and your mother sent for the pony-chaise. Your Pa wanted to go and see the Wicar of Putney. Mr. Bonnington don't like walking when he can ride. MILLIKEN.--And why shouldn't Mr. Bonnington ride, sir, as long as there's a carriage in my stable? Mr. Bonnington has had the gout, sir! Mr. Bonnington is a clergyman, and married to my mother. He has EVERY title to my respect. JOHN.--And to your pony-chaise--yes, sir. MILLIKEN.--And to everything he likes in this house, sir.