FANNY. Yes, John Horatio, and such a darling sideboard. (_taking_ O’WALKER’S _arm_) O’WALKER. You don’t say so; and I’ve got my eye on such a duck of a bedstead. MRS. J. Fie, Mr. O’Walker. _Here the BEADLE again comes in, L., goes up to O’WALKER, points to his open umbrella, smiles, touches his hat, and retires._ O’WALKER. (_suddenly recollecting and shutting up his umbrella_) Thank you! MRS. J. Now, my dear Mr. O’Walker, let’s talk of business. Have you seen a house that you think you would like? O’WALKER. Fifty! there isn’t a house in Grosvenor Square that I shouldn’t like amazingly! MRS. J. Now let’s talk seriously, if you please. Of course, when a man marries, he must expect to lay out a little money at starting. O’WALKER. I perfectly agree with you, and what’s more, I don’t care how little. MRS. J. In short, as the late lamented Jellicoe would have said, you must come down with the dibbs. O’WALKER. (_suddenly_) Dibbs! (_pulling out his watch and looking at it, then looking suddenly off at L._) There goes one!—here!—stop! stop! _Puts up his umbrella and runs out, L.—noise of voices in dispute outside as before._ O’WALKER. (_without_) Stop! Conductor! MRS. J. Why what can be the matter with Mr. O’Walker? FANNY. How very odd! O’WALKER. (_without_) Will you allow me? Thank you! _Re-enters, L., with his umbrella up._ Full again! the Conductor wanted me to get on the roof of his vehicle and sit upon a sort of knife board—I don’t know why I shouldn’t, but I wouldn’t! (_to MRS. J._) My dear Mrs. Jellicoe, I beg ten thousand pardons—but I thought I saw a friend pass—a friend I haven’t seen since—since I saw him last—but as you were very properly observing just now—by-the-bye, what were you very properly observing just now? MRS. J. I was going to say that you ought to take a small house, furnish it comfortably, and then, with Fanny’s little fortune and your own income—by-the-way, I think you said your income was about—— O’WALKER. Yes—more or less—but that’s the average. _Here BEADLE comes in again, L., goes up to O’WALKER, points to his umbrella, touches his hat, and again retires; O’WALKER hastily puts down his umbrella._ MRS. J. (_to BEADLE_) Worthy man, would you be so kind as to stop the first Brentford omnibus? BEADLE. Certainly, ma’am. _Goes out at L._ MRS. J. (L.) Oh, Mr. O’Walker, when you were a traveller to a wholesale house in the oil and varnish line, and used to come down to Brentford once a week for orders, little did I think you would ever be my son-in-law. And how does the business get on, eh? O’WALKER. (C.) My dear Mrs. Jellicoe, you don’t imagine I’m the sort of man to settle down in oil and varnish all my life? Bless you, I cut it a long time ago. MRS. J. Indeed! And what are you doing now?