Julia. Is the gentleman an embroiderer, madam,' or what?

Mrs. Lar. Embroiderer ?—No-the gentleman's a gentleman.

Julia. Then, madam, I should prefer going into a family where I might be useful, rather than to become an idle dependent on any one.

Mrs. Lar. What the deuce is in the wind now, I wonders? Well, the gentleman is an embroiderer; so let's have no more of your hums and haws, but get up to your own room, and be sure you doesn't stir till I calls you. [Exit JULIA.] If I can tell what to make of her, she's so full of her fine words, and things—As I lives, there's the old 'squire going by; I'll bring him back. Mr. Manly, Mr. Manly-It's a pity he's so old; for he has faults enough to make him agreeable to any woman.

Enter OLD MR. MANLY.

So you forgets your old acquaintance, sir; I warn't worth thinking on; you goes by the door, without ever axing how one does.

0. Man. What, do you think I can ever forget my durable blossom of five-and-forty?

Mrs. Lar. Forty! Lord, sir, why you reckons every body's years by your own lady's-I shan't be the age you mention these five years.

0. Man. You mean you hav'n't been the age I mention these five years-The register can add nothing to the evidence of your face-which proclaims fifty as strongly as if it was in black and white in the parish books.

Mrs. Lar. Ah! you're a merry man. No wonder madam is so jealous of you.

O. Man. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Larron, I never thought of roving till she put it in my head, by her doubts of my constancy.

Mrs. Lar. Why, sir, contradiction's as natural to

gentlemen as to ladies, for any thing as I see-Now there is up stairs

0. Man. What, what is there up stairs?

Mrs. Lar. As pretty a young creter as ever you set eyes on.

0. Man. Let me go and look at her directly.

Mrs. Lar. Nay, but stay-She's as full of freaks as she can hold. I hardly knows how to deal with her— She says she wants to work at embroidering—But that's all a pertence-Howsoever, I must tell her at first you wants to employ her that way.I'll bring her down in a minute.

[Exit.

O. Man. Hang her I wish she had not called me in. I begin to be too old for these follies, I have half a mind to be off-But when a man has continued in a bad practice for a length of time, it almost costs him as much shame to make good a reformation, as it did at first to venture on the transgression-But I hear a lighter foot on the stair-case than Dame Larron's; and so for the present good-bye, morality-we'll call upon you another time.

Enter Miss JULIA WINGROVE and MRS. LARRON.

O. Man. By all that's lovely, an angel! [Starts.] Miss Wingrove!

Julia. Mr. Manly!

odd-very

O. Man. Madam, you must think it very strange, I say, and very odd-to see me here upon such an occasion-Appearances, I confess, make against me. -Yet upon a proper explanation, madam, I don't fear being able to set all to rights.

Julia. Sir, to see you here, was what indeed I did not expect-By some means, I find the place of my concealment is discovered-But, sir, though I cannot deem it otherwise than amiable in you, to attempt some apology for the conduct of your son, yet I must tell you, in the anguish of my heart, that I would sooner become the wife of the man I once most abhorred, than unite

myself to him, or even listen to the smallest palliation of his perfidy-And now, sir, excuse my abrupt departure.

[Exit.

0. Man. Why, Mrs. Larron, are we awake here? -Is there nothing of enchantment in all this? Egad, I hope it's no trick of yours, mistress.

Mrs. Lar. Trick?-Deuce take me if I knows of any, I hav'n't been able to find what you and she meant, for my part.

0. Man. As to what she meant, that does not appear so difficult to unravel-How she came here is what puzzles me.

Mrs. Lar. Why, my husband brought her-He found her like a stray'd sheep, and so seiz'd her for his

own.

0. Man. Your husband must be a courageous sort of a man, I think, to steal a young lady of her pretensions -And you're a pretty gentlewoman, to come and draw a man in to make a fool of himself-Here did I expect to find a pretty little good-humoured, good-natured, insignificant sort of a good-for-nothing plaything; when, instead of that, I am exposed to encounter the reproachful glances of Miss Julia Wingrove.

Mrs. Lar. Miss Wingrove! My stars! Why is she the runaway lady that all the country's up in arms about? [Aside.] I am glad to hear this-Well, sir, I'm a little in a hurry, and so I knows you'll excuse me.

O. Man. Oh, with all my soul-I can find excuses enough for going away. The only difficulty is, how to discover an apology for coming in. [Exit.

Mrs. Lar. Well, sure some luck'll come of this at last. Who'd have thought she'd been such a proud man's daughter, so as she be-humbled herself to me— I hope she ha'n't giv'n me the slip, though.-If she is fairly out of the house, I dares not follow her. But I warrant she's gone back to the room-She's too genteel to have sense enough to take care of herself. [Exit.

Scene 11.-Manly's House.

Enter MRS. and Miss MANLY.

Mrs. Man. Surely, Emma, it was very indiscreet to give Mr. Welford permission to wait on you, at a time when your brother and he are at variance.

Miss Man. Well, madam, let him be refused admittance. I find every caprice of Henry's is to be complied with, however it may interfere with any prospects of mine. But I dare say he will have the goodness to repay your tenderness with his usual gratitude; for, if I mistake not, there is some new adventure in agitation.

Mrs. Man. Don't speak with so much asperity of your brother, Emma: if I seem to feel a particular interest about him, it is not that I entertain a greater affection for Henry than I do for you. But where a young man's imprudencies are constantly exposing him to danger, there the anxiety of common humanity is added to the apprehension of motherly affection; so that it is only the same regard more powerfully awakened, and pity taking part with duty.But what makes you imagine that he is at present engaged in some new adventure?

Miss Man. Indeed, my dear madam, I am sorry I spoke so harshly; but my reason for apprehending that be has some wild scheme on foot, is, that yesterday evening his servant told my maid, that his master would soon be a happy man. William staid out all night; and this morning they went abroad with a sort of mystery together, when William told my woman, that his young master had, according to custom, been cutting out vexation for himself.

Mrs. Man. Never, sure, had any woman so much to disturb her peace as I have! What, with Harry's imprudence, and Mr. Manly's neglect of me, it is a miracle how I support it.

Miss Man. Dear madam, your own apprehensions

create all your affliction in that quarter. Indeed, I have heard my father say as much.

Mrs. Man. What, could not he be satisfied with disregarding me himself, but he must endeavour to prejudice your mind against me?

Miss Man. Oh, you mistake my father's meaning entirely, madam. He was only lamenting your want of confidence in him, and saying, that had he never been causelessly suspected, he should never have given you cause of suspicion.

Mrs. Man. So then, he owns he has wronged me? He confesses his infidelity, and makes no scruple of avowing it to you, too. This is beyond even what I ever supposed. I did, indeed, think there was a little inconstancy in his nature. I confess I had some slight suspicions of that sort. Now I find I am justified in all my conjectures. Oh, Mr. Manly, you have much to answer for on my account.

Miss Man. I hope not, my dear mother-I am sure he always speaks of you with great tenderness.

Mrs. Man. Does he, my dear Emma? Well, and what does he say?

Miss Man. I have heard him say, madam, that could you but confide in him, you would be one of the happiest couples in the world.

Mrs. Man. And did he, indeed, my dear girl, say this? Don't you flatter me now, my child?

Miss Man. Be assur'd, madam, that he said every syllable I have related to you.

Mrs. Man. How could I ever make him uneasy

Enter OLD MANLY.

O. Man. Mrs. Manly, my dear-Emma, my child, have you heard

Miss Man. Oh yes, sir, that Miss Wingrove has left her father's, and my mother is alarm'd, lest my brother

IAN