FRANK. Agreeable society! Well, I must teach myself resignation. (_offering portmanteau_) Go and prepare a chamber for me. SIMON. You are labouring under a mistake, sir; the Golden Lion is on the other side of---- FRANK. Ah, true! you do not know me. I am Fra----(_checking himself_) No, I mean Harry Mitchell, your master's grandson. SIMON. Really! well, how lucky! I have a letter for your brother. FRANK. For my brother Frank? SIMON. Yes, here it is. (_drawing a letter from his pocket_) I have been ordered to post it. FRANK. (_aside_) I know what are its contents--the old story--you are a good-for-nothing fellow, and I shall not give you a sixpence. (_aloud, taking letter and putting it into his pocket_) All right, I will take care he has it. SIMON. And so you are Master Harry, eh? You are the favourite, you are. FRANK. How did you learn that? SIMON. Godfather has made me acquainted with all the family matters, for I am quite fresh, I am. FRANK. You are quite fresh! what do you mean? SIMON. I mean I was quite new this morning. Godfather brought me here and showed me to your grandmother just as she was stepping into the old family coach; she had only just time to say, "Oh! this is the stupid animal you have told me about." You see, she is so old that she doesn't always know what she is talking about. FRANK. I think, though, her faculties were pretty clear this morning. But, as you say, she is rather old--eighty-two. Considerably wrinkled, I should think. SIMON. Her face is just like a little apple that has been dried in the sun. FRANK. And my grandfather? SIMON. He is like a little pear that has been baked in an oven. FRANK. I am certain I should not recognize them; they must be very dull here, all by themselves. SIMON. Godfather says that they sometimes yawn till they get a lock-jaw; that's why they have just advertised in the papers for somebody to read to them. FRANK. Read to them! SIMON. Yes, a young lady. FRANK. (_quickly_) Ah, there is a young lady here? SIMON. No, sir, she hasn't come yet. FRANK. What a pity! SIMON. And they won't want a young lady now they have engaged me. FRANK. (_laughing_) But you are not a young lady. SIMON. No, and I can't read, but---- FRANK. Idiot! go and prepare my chamber. SIMON. (_going, L._) Yes, Master Harry. FRANK. Stop a moment; is there anything to eat in the pantry? SIMON. I saw the plate chest there; but I'll go and see, Master Harry. Ah! if you were Mr. Frank. FRANK. Well? SIMON. I shouldn't be able to find anything. (_confidentially_) Godfather says that you are a pet, and that your brother is a bad lot; old folks won't have him at any price. FRANK. (_aside_) I know it but too well. (_aloud_) You will find some cigars in my portmanteau, with my pipe and tobacco. Stay; have you got the keys of the cellar? SIMON. Yes, sir. FRANK. Then bring me some champagne. SIMON. I will. (_aside_) He'll help me, I can see, to redden my nose! _Exit, with portmanteau, door, L._