Mrs. Hard. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter.

Miss Nev. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed, he shan't leave us any more. 5 It won't leave us, cousin Tony, will it?

Tony. O! it's a pretty creature. No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming.

Miss Nev. Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring 10 that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless (patting his cheek), ah! it's a bold face.

Mrs. Hard. Pretty innocence !

Tony. I'm sure I always loved cousin Con's hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and 15 that over the haspicolls, like a parcel of bobbins.

Mrs. Hard. Ah, he would charm the bird from the tree. I never was so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con, shall be yours incontinently. You shall have 20 them. Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear? You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the rest of his education, like Dr. Drowsy's sermons, to a fitter opportunity.

25

Enter DIGGORY.

Dig. Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for your worship.

my

Tony. Give it to my mamma. She reads all letters first.

Dig. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.
Tony. Who does it come from?

Dig. Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself.

Tony. I could wish to know, though (turning the letter, and gazing on it).

Miss Nev. (Aside.) Undone, undone! A letter to him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it we are ruined for ever. I'll keep her employed a 5 little if I can. (To Mrs. Hardcastle.) But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laugh'd You must know, madam. This way a little, for he must not hear us.

[They confer. Tony. (Stili gazing.) A damn'd cramp piece of pen- 10 manship, as ever I saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here there are such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail. To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire.' It's very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own 15 name is, well enough. But when I come to open it, it's all-buzz. That's hard, very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

Mrs. Hard. Ha! ha ha! Very well, very well. And

so my son was too hard for the philosopher.

Miss Nev. Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam. A little more this way, or he may hear us. You'll hear how he puzzled him again.

Mrs. Hard. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.

Tony. (Still gazing.) A damn'd up and down hand, as if it was disguised in liquor. (Reading.) Dear Sir, Ay, that's that. Then there's an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard, or an R, confound me, I cannot tell.

20

25

30

Mrs. Hard. What's that, my dear? Can I give you any assistance?

Miss Nev. Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads. a cramp hand better than I. (Twitching the letter from 5 him.) Do you know who it is from?

Tony. Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger the feeder.

Miss Nev. Ay, so it is. (Pretending to read.) Dear 'squire, hoping that you're in health, as I am at this present. The 10 gentlemen of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of the Goose-green quite out of feather. The odds um odd battleum-long fighting here, it's all about cocks and fighting; it's of no consequence, here, put it up, put it up.

15

um - here,

[Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him. Tony. But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in the world. I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence !

[Giving Mrs. Hardcastle the letter.

Mrs. Hard. How's this! (Reads.) "Dear 'squire, I'm now waiting for Miss Neville, with a post-chaise and pair, 20 at the bottom of the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Dispatch is necessary, as the hag (ay, the hag) your mother, will otherwise suspect us. Yours, Hastings." Grant me 25 patience. I shall run distracted. My rage chokes me. Miss Nev. I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design, that belongs to another.