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+The Project Gutenberg Etext The Wolves and the Lamb by Thackeray
+#22 in our series by William Makepeace Thackeray
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+Title:  The Wolves and the Lamb
+
+Author:  William Makepeace Thackeray
+
+September, 2001  [Etext #2797]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext The Wolves and the Lamb by Thackeray
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+
+THE WOLVES AND THE LAMB
+
+by William Makepeace Thackeray
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+
+MR. HORACE MILLIKEN, a Widower, a wealthy City Merchant.
+GEORGE MILLIKEN, a Child, his Son.
+CAPTAIN TOUCHIT, his Friend.
+CLARENCE KICKLEBURY, brother to Milliken's late Wife.
+JOHN HOWELL, M's Butler and confidential Servant.
+CHARLES PAGE, Foot-boy.
+BULKELEY, Lady Kicklebury's Servant.
+MR. BONNINGTON.
+Coachman, Cabman; a Bluecoat Boy, another Boy (Mrs. Prior's Sons).
+
+LADY KICKLEBURY, Mother-in-law to Milliken.
+MRS. BONNINGTON, Milliken's Mother (married again).
+MRS. PRIOR.
+MISS PRIOR, her Daughter, Governess to Milliken's Children.
+ARABELLA MILLIKEN, a Child.
+MARY BARLOW, School-room Maid.
+A grown-up Girl and Child of Mrs. Prior's, Lady K.'s Maid, Cook.
+
+
+
+
+THE WOLVES AND THE LAMB.
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+Scene.--MILLIKEN'S villa at Richmond; two drawing-rooms opening
+into one another.  The late MRS. MILLIKEN'S portrait over the
+mantel-piece; bookcases, writing-tables, piano, newspapers, a
+handsomely furnished saloon.  The back-room opens, with very large
+windows, on the lawn and pleasure-ground; gate, and wall--over
+which the heads of a cab and a carriage are seen, as persons
+arrive.  Fruit, and a ladder on the walls.  A door to the dining-
+room, another to the sleeping-apartments, &c.
+
+
+JOHN.--Everybody out; governor in the city; governess (heigh-ho!)
+walking in the Park with the children; ladyship gone out in the
+carriage.  Let's sit down and have a look at the papers.  Buttons
+fetch the Morning Post out of Lady Kicklebury's room.  Where's the
+Daily News, sir?
+
+PAGE.--Think it's in Milliken's room.
+
+JOHN.--Milliken! you scoundrel!  What do you mean by Milliken?
+Speak of your employer as your governor if you like; but not as
+simple Milliken.  Confound your impudence! you'll be calling me
+Howell next.
+
+PAGE.--Well! I didn't know.  YOU call him Milliken.
+
+JOHN.--Because I know him, because I'm intimate with him, because
+there's not a secret he has but I may have it for the asking;
+because the letters addressed to Horace Milliken, Esq., might as
+well be addressed John Howell, Esq., for I read 'em, I put 'em away
+and docket 'em, and remember 'em.  I know his affairs better than
+he does: his income to a shilling, pay his tradesmen, wear his
+coats if I like.  I may call Mr. Milliken what I please; but not
+YOU, you little scamp of a clod-hopping ploughboy.  Know your
+station and do your business, or you don't wear THEM buttons long,
+I promise you.  [Exit Page.]
+
+Let me go on with the paper [reads].  How brilliant this writing
+is!  Times, Chronicle, Daily News, they're all good, blest if they
+ain't.  How much better the nine leaders in them three daily papers
+is, than nine speeches in the House of Commons!  Take a very best
+speech in the 'Ouse now, and compare it with an article in The
+Times!  I say, the newspaper has the best of it for philosophy, for
+wit, novelty, good sense too.  And the party that writes the
+leading article is nobody, and the chap that speaks in the House of
+Commons is a hero.  Lord, Lord, how the world is 'umbugged!
+Pop'lar representation! what IS pop'lar representation?  Dammy,
+it's a farce.  Hallo! this article is stole!  I remember a passage
+in Montesquieu uncommonly like it.  [Goes and gets the book.  As he
+is standing upon sofa to get it, and sitting down to read it, MISS
+PRIOR and the Children have come in at the garden.  Children pass
+across stage.  MISS PRIOR enters by open window, bringing flowers
+into the room.]
+
+JOHN.--It IS like it.  [He slaps the book, and seeing MISS PRIOR
+who enters, then jumps up from sofa, saying very respectfully,]
+
+JOHN.--I beg your pardon, Miss.
+
+MISS P.--[sarcastically.]  Do I disturb you, Howell?
+
+JOHN.--Disturb!  I have no right to say--a servant has no right to
+be disturbed, but I hope I may be pardoned for venturing to look at
+a volume in the libery, Miss, just in reference to a newspaper
+harticle--that's all, Miss.
+
+MISS P.--You are very fortunate in finding anything to interest you
+in the paper, I'm sure.
+
+JOHN.--Perhaps, Miss, you are not accustomed to political discussion,
+and ignorant of--ah--I beg your pardon: a servant, I know, has no
+right to speak.  [Exit into dining-room, making a low bow.]
+
+MISS PRIOR.--The coolness of some people is really quite
+extraordinary! the airs they give themselves, the way in which they
+answer one, the books they read!  Montesquieu: "Esprit des Lois!"
+[takes book up which J. has left on sofa.]  I believe the man has
+actually taken this from the shelf.  I am sure Mr. Milliken, or her
+ladyship, never would.  The other day "Helvetius" was found in Mr.
+Howell's pantry, forsooth!  It is wonderful how he picked up French
+whilst we were abroad.  "Esprit des Lois!" what is it? it must be
+dreadfully stupid.  And as for reading "Helvetius" (who, I suppose,
+was a Roman general), I really can't understand how--  Dear, dear!
+what airs these persons give themselves!  What will come next?  A
+footman--I beg Mr. Howell's pardon--a butler and confidential valet
+lolls on the drawing-room sofa, and reads Montesquieu!  Impudence!
+And add to this, he follows me for the last two or three months
+with eyes that are quite horrid.  What can the creature mean?  But
+I forgot--I am only a governess.  A governess is not a lady--a
+governess is but a servant--a governess is to work and walk all day
+with the children, dine in the school-room, and come to the
+drawing-room to play the man of the house to sleep.  A governess is
+a domestic, only her place is not the servants' hall, and she is
+paid not quite so well as the butler who serves her her glass of
+wine.  Odious!  George!  Arabella! there are those little wretches
+quarrelling again!  [Exit.  Children are heard calling out, and
+seen quarrelling in garden.]
+
+JOHN [re-entering].--See where she moves! grace is in all her
+steps.  'Eaven in her high--no--a-heaven in her heye, in every
+gesture dignity and love--ah, I wish I could say it!  I wish you
+may procure it, poor fool!  She passes by me--she tr-r-amples on
+me.  Here's the chair she sets in [kisses it.]  Here's the piano
+she plays on.  Pretty keys, them fingers out-hivories you!  When
+she plays on it, I stand and listen at the drawing-room door, and
+my heart thr-obs in time!  Fool, fool, fool! why did you look on
+her, John Howell! why did you beat for her, busy heart!  You were
+tranquil till you knew her!  I thought I could have been a-happy
+with Mary till then.  That girl's affection soothed me.  Her
+conversation didn't amuse me much, her ideers ain't exactly
+elevated, but they are just and proper.  Her attentions pleased me.
+She ever kep' the best cup of tea for me.  She crisped my buttered
+toast, or mixed my quiet tumbler for me, as I sat of hevenings and
+read my newspaper in the kitching.  She respected the sanctaty of
+my pantry.  When I was a-studying there, she never interrupted me.
+She darned my stockings for me, she starched and folded my chokers,
+and she sowed on the habsent buttons of which time and chance had
+bereft my linning.  She has a good heart, Mary has.  I know she'd
+get up and black the boots for me of the coldest winter mornings.
+She did when we was in humbler life, she did.
+
+Enter MARY.
+
+You have a good heart, Mary!
+
+MARY.--Have I, dear John? [sadly.]
+
+JOHN.--Yes, child--yes.  I think a better never beat in woman's
+bosom.  You're good to everybody--good to your parents whom you
+send half your wages to: good to your employers whom you never
+robbed of a halfpenny.
+
+MARY [whimpering].--Yes, I did, John.  I took the jelly when you
+were in bed with the influenza; and brought you the pork-wine
+negus.
+
+JOHN.--Port, not pork, child.  Pork is the hanimal which Jews
+ab'or.  Port is from Oporto in Portugal.
+
+MARY [still crying].--Yes, John; you know everything a'most, John.
+
+JOHN.--And you, poor child, but little!  It's not heart you want,
+you little trump, it's education, Mary: it's information: it's
+head, head, head!  You can't learn.  You never can learn.  Your
+ideers ain't no good.  You never can hinterchange em with mine.
+Conversation between us is impossible.  It's not your fault.  Some
+people are born clever; some are born tall, I ain't tall.
+
+MARY.--Ho! you're big enough for me, John.  [Offers to take his
+hand.]
+
+JOHN.--Let go my 'and--my a-hand, Mary!  I say, some people are
+born with brains, and some with big figures.  Look at that great
+ass, Bulkeley, Lady K.'s man--the besotted, stupid beast!  He's as
+big as a life-guardsman, but he ain't no more education nor ideers
+than the ox he feeds on.
+
+MARY.--Law, John, whatever do you mean?
+
+JOHN.--Hm! you know not, little one! you never can know.  Have YOU
+ever felt the pangs of imprisoned genius? have YOU ever felt what
+'tis to be a slave?
+
+MARY.--Not in a free country, I should hope, John Howell--no such a
+thing.  A place is a place, and I know mine, and am content with
+the spear of life in which it pleases heaven to place me, John: and
+I wish you were, and remembered what we learned from our parson
+when we went to school together in dear old Pigeoncot, John--when
+you used to help little Mary with her lessons, John, and fought Bob
+Brown, the big butcher's boy, because he was rude to me, John, and
+he gave you that black hi.
+
+JOHN.--Say eye, Mary, not heye [gently].
+
+MARY.--Eye; and I thought you never looked better in all your life
+than you did then: and we both took service at Squire Milliken's--
+me as dairy-girl, and you as knife-boy; and good masters have they
+been to us from our youth hup: both old Squire Milliken and Mr.
+Charles as is master now, and poor Mrs. as is dead, though she had
+her tantrums--and I thought we should save up and take the
+"Milliken Arms"--and now we have saved up--and now, now, now--oh,
+you are a stone, a stone, a stone! and I wish you were hung round
+my neck, and I were put down the well!  There's the hup-stairs
+bell.  [She starts, changing her manner as she hears the bell, and
+exit.]
+
+JOHN [looking after her].--It's all true.  Gospel-true.  We were
+children in the same village--sat on the same form at school.  And
+it was for her sake that Bob Brown the butcher's boy whopped me.  A
+black eye!  I'm not handsome.  But if I were ugly, ugly as the
+Saracen's 'Ead, ugly as that beast Bulkeley, I know it would be all
+the same to Mary.  SHE has never forgot the boy she loved, that
+brought birds'-nests for her, and spent his halfpenny on cherries,
+and bought a fairing with his first half-crown--a brooch it was, I
+remember, of two billing doves a-hopping on one twig, and brought
+it home for little yellow-haired, blue-eyed, red-cheeked Mary.
+Lord, Lord! I don't like to think how I've kissed 'em, the pretty
+cheeks! they've got quite pale now with crying--and she has never
+once reproached me, not once, the trump, the little tr-rump!
+
+Is it my fault [stamping] that Fate has separated us?  Why did my
+young master take me up to Oxford, and give me the run of his
+libery and the society of the best scouts in the University?  Why
+did he take me abroad?  Why have I been to Italy, France, Jummany
+with him--their manners noted and their realms surveyed, by jingo!
+I've improved myself, and Mary has remained as you was.  I try a
+conversation, and she can't respond.  She's never got a word of
+poetry beyond Watt's Ims, and if I talk of Byron or Moore to her,
+I'm blest if she knows anything more about 'em than the cook, who
+is as hignorant as a pig, or that beast Bulkeley, Lady Kick's
+footman.  Above all, why, why did I see the woman upon whom my
+wretched heart is fixed for ever, and who carries away my soul with
+her--prostrate, I say, prostrate, through the mud at the skirts of
+her gownd!  Enslaver! why did I ever come near you?  O enchantress
+Kelipso! how you have got hold of me!  It was Fate, Fate, Fate.
+When Mrs. Milliken fell ill of scarlet fever at Naples, Milliken
+was away at Petersborough, Rooshia, looking after his property.
+Her foring woman fled.  Me and the governess remained and nursed
+her and the children.  We nursed the little ones out of the fever.
+We buried their mother.  We brought the children home over Halp and
+Happenine.  I nursed 'em all three.  I tended 'em all three, the
+orphans, and the lovely gu-gu-governess.  At Rome, where she took
+ill, I waited on her; as we went to Florence, had we been attacked
+by twenty thousand brigands, this little arm had courage for them
+all!  And if I loved thee, Julia, was I wrong? and if I basked in
+thy beauty day and night, Julia, am I not a man? and if, before
+this Peri, this enchantress, this gazelle, I forgot poor little
+Mary Barlow, how could I help it?  I say, how the doose could I
+help it?
+
+Enter Lady KICKLEBURY, BULKELEY following with parcels and a
+spaniel.
+
+LADY K.--Are the children and the governess come home?
+
+JOHN.--Yes, my lady [in a perfectly altered tone].
+
+LADY K.--Bulkeley, take those parcels to my sitting-room.
+
+JOHN.--Get up, old stoopid.  Push along, old daddylonglegs [aside
+to BULKELEY].
+
+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.
+
+JOHN.--What a good fellow you are, sir!  You'd give your head off
+your shoulders, that you would.  Is the fish for dinner to-day?
+Band-box for my lady, I suppose, sir?  [Looks in]--Turban,
+feathers, bugles, marabouts, spangles--doose knows what.  Yes, it's
+for her ladyship.  [To Page.]  Charles, take this band-box to her
+ladyship's maid.  [To his master.]  What sauce would you like with
+the turbot?  Lobster sauce or Hollandaise?  Hollandaise is best--
+most wholesome for you.  Anybody besides Captain Touchit coming to
+dinner?
+
+MILLIKEN.--No one that I know of.
+
+JOHN.--Very good.  Bring up a bottle of the brown hock?  He likes
+the brown hock, Touchit does.  [Exit JOHN.]
+
+Enter Children.  They run to MILLIKEN.
+
+BOTH.--How d'you do, Papa!  How do you do, Papa!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Kiss your old father, Arabella.  Come here, George--
+What?
+
+GEORGE.--Don't care for kissing--kissing's for gals.  Have you
+brought me that bat from London?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Yes.  Here's the bat; and here's the ball [takes one
+from pocket]--and--
+
+GEORGE.--Where's the wickets, Papa.  O-o-o--where's the wickets?
+[howls.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--My dear, darling boy!  I left them at the office.  What
+a silly papa I was to forget them!  Parkins forgot them.
+
+GEORGE.--Then turn him away, I say!  Turn him away!  [He stamps.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--What! an old, faithful clerk and servant of your father
+and grandfather for thirty years past?  An old man, who loves us
+all, and has nothing but our pay to live on?
+
+ARABELLA.--Oh, you naughty boy!
+
+GEORGE.--I ain't a naughty boy.
+
+ARABELLA.--You are a naughty boy.
+
+GEORGE.--He! he! he! he!  [Grins at her.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--Hush, children!  Here, Arabella darling, here is a book
+for you.  Look--aren't they pretty pictures?
+
+ARABELLA.--Is it a story, Papa?  I don't care for stories in
+general.  I like something instructive and serious.  Grandmamma
+Bonnington and grandpapa say--
+
+GEORGE.--He's NOT your grandpapa.
+
+ARABELLA.--He IS my grandpapa.
+
+GEORGE.--Oh, you great story!  Look! look! there's a cab.  [Runs
+out.  The head of a Hansom cab is seen over the garden-gate.  Bell
+rings.  Page comes.  Altercation between Cabman and Captain TOUCHIT
+appears to go on, during which]
+
+MILLIKEN.--Come and kiss your old father, Arabella.  He's hungry
+for kisses.
+
+ARABELLA.--Don't.  I want to go and look at the cab; and to tell
+Captain Touchit that he mustn't use naughty words.  [Runs towards
+garden.  Page is seen carrying a carpet-bag.]
+
+Enter TOUCHIT through the open window smoking a cigar.
+
+TOUCHIT.--How d'ye do, Milliken?  How are tallows, hey, my noble
+merchant?  I have brought my bag, and intend to sleep--
+
+GEORGE.--I say, godpapa--
+
+TOUCHIT.--Well, godson!
+
+GEORGE.--Give us a cigar!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Oh, you enfant terrible!
+
+MILLIKEN [wheezily].--Ah--ahem--George Touchit! you wouldn't mind--
+a--smoking that cigar in the garden, would you?  Ah--ah!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Hullo!  What's in the wind now?  You used to be a most
+inveterate smoker, Horace.
+
+MILLIKEN.--The fact is--my mother-in-law--Lady Kicklebury--doesn't
+like it, and while she's with us, you know--
+
+TOUCHIT.--Of course, of course [throws away cigar].  I beg her
+ladyship's pardon.  I remember when you were courting her daughter
+she used not to mind it.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Don't--don't allude to those times.  [He looks up at his
+wife's picture.]
+
+GEORGE.--My mamma was a Kicklebury.  The Kickleburys are the oldest
+family in all the world.  My name is George Kicklebury Milliken, of
+Pigeoncot, Hants; the Grove, Richmond, Surrey; and Portland Place,
+London, Esquire--my name is.
+
+TOUCHIT.--You have forgotten Billiter Street, hemp and tallow
+merchant.
+
+GEORGE.--Oh, bother!  I don't care about that.  I shall leave that
+when I'm a man: when I'm a man and come into my property.
+
+MILLIKEN.--You come into your property?
+
+GEORGE.--I shall, you know, when you're dead, Papa.  I shall have
+this house, and Pigeoncot; and the house in town--no, I don't mind
+about the house in town--and I shan't let Bella live with me--no, I
+won't.
+
+BELLA.--No; I won't live with YOU.  And I'LL have Pigeoncot.
+
+GEORGE.--You shan't have Pigeoncot.  I'll have it: and the ponies:
+and I won't let you ride them--and the dogs, and you shan't have
+even a puppy to play with and the dairy and won't I have as much
+cream as I like--that's all!
+
+TOUCHIT.--What a darling boy!  Your children are brought up
+beautifully, Milliken.  It's quite delightful to see them together.
+
+GEORGE.--And I shall sink the name of Milliken, I shall.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Sink the name? why, George?
+
+GEORGE.--Because the Millikens are nobodies--grandmamma says they
+are nobodies.  The Kickleburys are gentlemen, and came over with
+William the Conqueror.
+
+BELLA.--I know when that was.  One thousand one hundred and one
+thousand one hundred and onety-one!
+
+GEORGE.--Bother when they came over!  But I know this, when I come
+into the property I shall sink the name of Milliken.
+
+MILLIKEN.--So you are ashamed of your father's name, are you,
+George, my boy?
+
+GEORGE.--Ashamed!  No, I ain't ashamed.  Only Kicklebury is
+sweller.  I know it is.  Grandmamma says so.
+
+BELLA.--MY grandmamma does not say so.  MY dear grandmamma says
+that family pride is sinful, and all belongs to this wicked world;
+and that in a very few years what our names are will not matter.
+
+GEORGE.--Yes, she says so because her father kept a shop; and so
+did Pa's father keep a sort of shop--only Pa's a gentleman now.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Darling child!  How I wish I were married!  If I had such
+a dear boy as you, George, do you know what I would give him?
+
+GEORGE [quite pleased].--What would you give him, god-papa?
+
+TOUCHIT.--I would give him as sound a flogging as ever boy had, my
+darling.  I would whip this nonsense out of him.  I would send him
+to school, where I would pray that he might be well thrashed: and
+if when he came home he was still ashamed of his father, I would
+put him apprentice to a chimney-sweep--that's what I would do.
+
+GEORGE.--I'm glad you're not my father, that's all.
+
+BELLA.--And I'M glad you're not my father, because you are a wicked
+man!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Arabella!
+
+BELLA.--Grandmamma says so.  He is a worldly man, and the world is
+wicked.  And he goes to the play: and he smokes, and he says--
+
+TOUCHIT.--Bella, what do I say?
+
+BELLA.--Oh, something dreadful!  You know you do!  I heard you say
+it to the cabman.
+
+TOUCHIT.--So I did, so I did!  He asked me fifteen shillings from
+Piccadilly, and I told him to go to--to somebody whose name begins
+with a D.
+
+CHILDREN.--Here's another carriage passing.
+
+BELLA.--The Lady Rumble's carriage.
+
+GEORGE.--No, it ain't: it's Captain Boxer's carriage [they run into
+the garden].
+
+TOUCHIT.--And this is the pass to which you have brought yourself,
+Horace Milliken!  Why, in your wife's time, it was better than
+this, my poor fellow!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Don't speak of her in THAT way, George Touchit!
+
+TOUCHIT.--What have I said?  I am only regretting her loss for our
+sake.  She tyrannized over you; turned your friends out of doors;
+took your name out of your clubs; dragged you about from party to
+party, though you can no more dance than a bear, and from opera to
+opera, though you don't know "God Save the Queen" from "Rule
+Britannia."  You don't, sir; you know you don't.  But Arabella was
+better than her mother, who has taken possession of you since your
+widowhood.
+
+MILLIKEN.--My dear fellow! no, she hasn't.  There's MY mother.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Yes, to be sure, there's Mrs. Bonnington, and they
+quarrel over you like the two ladies over the baby before King
+Solomon.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Play the satirist, my good friend! laugh at my weakness!
+
+TOUCHIT.--I know you to be as plucky a fellow as ever stepped,
+Milliken, when a man's in the case.  I know you and I stood up to
+each other for an hour and a half at Westminster.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Thank you!  We were both dragons of war! tremendous
+champions!  Perhaps I am a little soft as regards women.  I know my
+weakness well enough; but in my case what is my remedy?  Put
+yourself in my position.  Be a widower with two young children.
+What is more natural than that the mother of my poor wife should
+come and superintend my family?  My own mother can't.  She has a
+half-dozen of little half brothers and sisters, and a husband of
+her own to attend to.  I dare say Mr. Bonnington and my mother will
+come to dinner to-day.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Of course they will, my poor old Milliken, you don't dare
+to dine without them.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Don't go on in that manner, George Touchit!  Why should
+not my step-father and my mother dine with me?  I can afford it.  I
+am a domestic man and like to see my relations about me.  I am in
+the city all day.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Luckily for you.
+
+MILLIKEN.--And my pleasure of an evening is to sit under my own
+vine and under my own fig-tree with my own olive-branches round
+about me; to sit by my fire with my children at my knees: to coze
+over a snug bottle of claret after dinner with a friend like you to
+share it; to see the young folks at the breakfast-table of a
+morning, and to kiss them and so off to business with a cheerful
+heart.  This was my scheme in marrying, had it pleased heaven to
+prosper my plan.  When I was a boy and came from school and
+college, I used to see Mr. Bonnington, my father-in-law, with HIS
+young ones clustering round about him, so happy to be with him! so
+eager to wait on him! all down on their little knees round my
+mother before breakfast or jumping up on his after dinner.  It was
+who should reach his hat, and who should bring his coat, and who
+should fetch his umbrella, and who should get the last kiss.
+
+TOUCHIT.--What? didn't he kiss YOU?  Oh, the hard-hearted old ogre!
+
+MILLIKEN.--DON'T, Touchit!  Don't laugh at Mr. Bonnington! he is as
+good a fellow as ever breathed.  Between you and me, as my half
+brothers and sisters increased and multiplied year after year, I
+used to feel rather lonely, rather bowled out, you understand.  But
+I saw them so happy that I longed to have a home of my own.  When
+my mother proposed Arabella for me (for she and Lady Kicklebury
+were immense friends at one time), I was glad enough to give up
+clubs and bachelorhood, and to settle down as a married man.  My
+mother acted for the best.  My poor wife's character, my mother
+used to say, changed after marriage.  I was not as happy as I hoped
+to be; but I tried for it.  George, I am not so comfortable now as
+I might be.  A house without a mistress, with two mothers-in-law
+reigning over it--one worldly and aristocratic, another what you
+call serious, though she don't mind a rubber of whist: I give you
+my honor my mother plays a game at whist, and an uncommonly good
+game too--each woman dragging over a child to her side: of course
+such a family cannot be comfortable.  [Bell rings.]  There's the
+first dinner-bell.  Go and dress, for heaven's sake.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Why dress?  There is no company!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Why? ah! her ladyship likes it, you see.  And it costs
+nothing to humor her.  Quick, for she don't like to be kept
+waiting.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Horace Milliken! what a pity it is the law declares a
+widower shall not marry his wife's mother!  She would marry you
+else,--she would, on my word.
+
+Enter JOHN.
+
+JOHN.--I have took the Captain's things in the blue room, sir.
+[Exeunt gentlemen, JOHN arranges tables, &c.]
+
+Ha! Mrs. Prior! I ain't partial to Mrs. Prior.  I think she's an
+artful old dodger, Mrs. Prior.  I think there's mystery in her
+unfathomable pockets, and schemes in the folds of her umbrella.
+But--but she's Julia's mother, and for the beloved one's sake I am
+civil to her.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Thank you Charles [to the Page, who has been seen to
+let her in at the garden-gate], I am so much obliged to you!  Good
+afternoon, Mr. Howell.  Is my daughter--are the darling children
+well?  Oh, I am quite tired and weary!  Three horrid omnibuses were
+full, and I have had to walk the whole weary long way.  Ah, times
+are changed with me, Mr. Howell.  Once when I was young and strong,
+I had my husband's carriage to ride in.
+
+JOHN [aside].--His carriage! his coal-wagon!  I know well enough
+who old Prior was.  A merchant? yes, a pretty merchant! kep' a
+lodging-house, share in a barge, touting for orders, and at last a
+snug little place in the Gazette.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--How is your cough, Mr. Howell?  I have brought you
+some lozenges for it [takes numberless articles from her pocket],
+and if you would take them of a night and morning--oh, indeed, you
+would get better!  The late Sir Henry Halford recommended them to
+Mr. Prior.  He was his late Majesty's physician and ours.  You know
+we have seen happier times, Mr. Howell.  Oh, I am quite tired and
+faint.
+
+JOHN.--Will you take anything before the school-room tea, ma'am?
+You will stop to tea, I hope, with Miss Prior, and our young folks?
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Thank you: a little glass of wine when one is so
+faint--a little crumb of biscuit when one is so old and tired!  I
+have not been accustomed to want, you know; and in my poor dear Mr.
+Prior's time--
+
+JOHN.--I'll fetch some wine, ma'am.  [Exit to the dining-room.]
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Bless the man, how abrupt he is in his manner!  He
+quite shocks a poor lady who has been used to better days.  What's
+here?  Invitations--ho!  Bills for Lady Kicklebury!  THEY are not
+paid.  Where is Mr. M. going to dine, I wonder?  Captain and Mrs.
+Hopkinson, Sir John and Lady Tomkinson, request the pleasure.
+Request the pleasure!  Of course they do.  They are always asking
+Mr. M. to dinner.  They have daughters to marry, and Mr. M. is a
+widower with three thousand a year, every shilling of it.  I must
+tell Lady Kicklebury.  He must never go to these places--never,
+never--mustn't be allowed.  [While talking, she opens all the
+letters on the table, rummages the portfolio and writing-box, looks
+at cards on mantelpiece, work in work-basket, tries tea-box, and
+shows the greatest activity and curiosity.]
+
+Re-enter John, bearing a tray with cakes, a decanter, &c.
+
+Thank you, thank you, Mr. Howell!  Oh, oh, dear me, not so much as
+that!  Half a glass, and ONE biscuit, please.  What elegant sherry!
+[sips a little, and puts down glass on tray].  Do you know, I
+remember in better days, Mr. Howell, when my poor dear husband--
+
+JOHN.--Beg your pardon.  There's Milliken's bell, going like mad.
+Exit John.]
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--What an abrupt person!  Oh, but it's comfortable, this
+wine is!  And--and I think how my poor Charlotte would like a
+little--she so weak, and ordered wine by the medical man!  And when
+dear Adolphus comes home from Christ's Hospital, quite tired, poor
+boy, and hungry, wouldn't a bit of nice cake do him good!  Adolphus
+is so fond of plum-cake, the darling child!  And so is Frederick,
+little saucy rogue; and I'll give them MY piece, and keep my glass
+of wine for my dear delicate angel Shatty!  [Takes bottle and paper
+out of her pocket, cuts off a great slice of cake, and pours wine
+from wine-glass and decanter into bottle.]
+
+Enter PAGE.
+
+PAGE.--Master George and Miss Bella is going to have their teas
+down here with Miss Prior, Mrs. Prior, and she's up in the school-
+room, and my lady says you may stay to tea.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Thank you, Charles!  How tall you grow!  Those
+trousers would fit my darling Frederick to a nicety.  Thank you,
+Charles.  I know the way to the nursery.  [Exit Mrs. P.]
+
+PAGE.--Know the way!  I believe she DO know the way.  Been a having
+cake and wine.  Howell always gives her cake and wine--jolly cake,
+ain't it! and wine, oh, my!
+
+Re-enter John.
+
+JOHN.--You young gormandizing cormorant!  What! five meals a day
+ain't enough for you!  What? beer ain't good enough for you, hey?
+[Pulls boy's ears.]
+
+PAGE [crying].--Oh, oh, do-o-n't, Mr. Howell.  I only took half a
+glass, upon my honor.
+
+JOHN.--Your a-honor, you lying young vagabond!  I wonder the ground
+don't open and swallow you.  Half a glass! [holds up decanter.]
+You've took half a bottle, you young Ananias!  Mark this, sir!
+When I was a boy, a boy on my promotion, a child kindly took in
+from charity-school, a horphan in buttons like you, I never lied;
+no, nor never stole, and you've done both, you little scoundrel.
+Don't tell ME, sir! there's plums on your coat, crumbs on your
+cheek, and you smell sherry, sir!  I ain't time to whop you now,
+but come to my pantry to-night after you've took the tray down.
+Come without your jacket on, sir, and then I'll teach you what it
+is to lie and steal.  There's the outer bell.  Scud, you vagabond!
+
+Enter LADY K.
+
+LADY K.--What was that noise, pray?
+
+JOHN.--A difference between me and young Page, my lady.  I was
+instructing him to keep his hands from picking and stealing.  I was
+learning him his lesson, my lady, and he was a-crying it out.
+
+LADY K.--It seems to me you are most unkind to that boy, Howell.
+He is my boy, sir.  He comes from my estate.  I will not have him
+ill-used.  I think you presume on your long services.  I shall
+speak to my son-in-law about you.  ["Yes, my lady; no, my lady;
+very good, my lady."  John has answered each sentence as she is
+speaking, and exit gravely bowing.]  That man must quit the house.
+Horace says he can't do without him, but he must do without him.
+My poor dear Arabella was fond of him, but he presumes on that
+defunct angel's partiality.  Horace says this person keeps all his
+accounts, sorts all his letters, manages all his affairs, may be
+trusted with untold gold, and rescued little George out of the
+fire.  Now I have come to live with my son-in-law, I will keep his
+accounts, sort his letters, and take charge of his money: and if
+little Georgy gets into the grate, I will take him out of the fire.
+What is here?  Invitation from Captain and Mrs. Hopkinson.
+Invitation from Sir John and Lady Tomkinson, who don't even ask me!
+Monstrous! he never shall go--he shall not go!  [MRS. PRIOR has re-
+entered, she drops a very low curtsy to Lady K., as the latter,
+perceiving her, lays the cards down.]
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Ah, dear madam! how kind your ladyship's message was
+to the poor lonely widow woman!  Oh, how thoughtful it was of your
+ladyship to ask me to stay to tea!
+
+LADY K.--With your daughter and the children?  Indeed, my good Mrs.
+Prior, you are very welcome!
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Ah! but isn't it a cause of thankfulness to be MADE
+welcome?  Oughtn't I to be grateful for these blessings?--yes, I
+say BLESSINGS.  And I am--I am, Lady Kicklebury--to the mother--
+of--that angel who is gone [points to the picture].  It was your
+sainted daughter left us--left my child to the care of Mr.
+Milliken, and--and you, who are now his guardian angel I may say.
+You ARE, Lady Kicklebury--you are.  I say to my girl, Julia, Lady
+Kicklebury is Mr. Milliken's guardian angel, is YOUR guardian
+angel--for without you could she keep her place as governess to
+these darling children?  It would tear her heart in two to leave
+them, and yet she would be forced to do so.  You know that some
+one--shall I hesitate to say whom I MEAN--that Mr. Milliken's
+mother, excellent lady though she is, does not love my child
+because YOU love her.  You DO love her, Lady Kicklebury, and oh! a
+mother's fond heart pays you back!  But for you, my poor Julia must
+go--go, and leave the children whom a dying angel confided to her!
+
+LADY K.--Go! no, never! not whilst I am in this house, Mrs. Prior.
+Your daughter is a well-behaved young woman: you have confided to
+me her long engagement to Lieutenant--Lieutenant What-d'you-
+call'im, in the Indian service.  She has been very, very good to my
+grandchildren--she brought them over from Naples when my--my angel
+of an Arabella died there, and I will protect Miss Prior.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Bless you, bless you, noble, admirable woman!  Don't
+take it away!  I must, I WILL kiss your dear, generous hand!  Take
+a mother's, a widow's blessings, Lady Kicklebury--the blessings of
+one who has known misfortune and seen better days, and thanks
+heaven--yes, heaven!--for the protectors she has found!
+
+LADY K.--You said--you had--several children, I think, my good Mrs.
+Prior?
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Three boys--one, my eldest blessing, is in a wine-
+merchant's office--ah, if Mr. Milliken WOULD but give him an order!
+an order from THIS house! an order from Lady Kicklebury's son-in-
+law!--
+
+LADY K.--It shall be done, my good Prior--we will see.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Another, Adolphus, dear fellow! is in Christ's
+Hospital.  It was dear, good Mr. Milliken's nomination.  Frederick
+is at Merchant Taylor's: my darling Julia pays his schooling.
+Besides, I have two girls--Amelia, quite a little toddles, just the
+size, though not so beautiful--but in a mother's eyes all children
+are lovely, dear Lady Kicklebury--just the size of your dear
+granddaughter, whose clothes would fit her, I am sure.  And my
+second, Charlotte, a girl as tall as your ladyship, though not with
+so fine a figure.  "Ah, no, Shatty!" I say to her, "you are as tall
+as our dear patroness, Lady Kicklebury, whom you long so to see;
+but you have not got her ladyship's carriage and figure, child."
+Five children have I, left fatherless and penniless by my poor dear
+husband--but heaven takes care of the widow and orphan, madam--and
+heaven's BEST CREATURES feed them!--YOU know whom I mean.
+
+LADY K.--Should you not like, would you object to take--a frock or
+two of little Arabella's to your child? and if Pinhorn, my maid,
+will let me, Mrs. Prior, I will see if I cannot find something
+against winter for your second daughter, as you say we are of a
+size.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--The widow's and orphans' blessings upon you!  I said
+my Charlotte was as tall, but I never said she had such a figure as
+yours--who has?
+
+CHARLES announces--
+
+CHARLES.--Mrs. Bonnington!  [Enter MRS. BONNINGTON.]
+
+MRS. B.--How do you do, Lady Kicklebury?
+
+LADY K.--My dear Mrs. Bonnington! and you come to dinner of course?
+
+MRS. B.--To dine with my own son, I may take the liberty.  How are
+my grandchildren? my darling little Emily, is she well, Mrs. Prior?
+
+LADY K. [aside].--Emily? why does she not call the child by her
+blessed mother's name of Arabella?  [To MRS. B.]  ARABELLA is quite
+well, Mrs. Bonnington.  Mr. Squillings said it was nothing; only
+her grandmamma Bonnington spoiling her, as usual.  Mr. Bonnington
+and all your numerous young folk are well, I hope?
+
+MRS. B.--My family are all in perfect health, I thank you.  Is
+Horace come home from the city?
+
+LADY K.--Goodness! there's the dinner-bell,--I must run to dress.
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Shall I come with you, dear Lady Kicklebury?
+
+LADY K.--Not for worlds, my good Mrs. Prior.  [Exit Lady K.]
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--How do you do, my DEAR madam?  Is dear Mr. Bonnington
+QUITE well?  What a sweet, sweet sermon he gave us last Sunday.  I
+often say to my girl, I must not go to hear Mr. Bonnington, I
+really must not, he makes me cry so.  Oh! he is a great and gifted
+man, and shall I not have one glimpse of him?
+
+MRS. B.--Saturday evening, my good Mrs. Prior.  Don't you know that
+my husband never goes out on Saturday, having his sermon to
+compose?
+
+MRS. P.--Oh, those dear, dear sermons!  Do you know, madam, that my
+little Adolphus, for whom your son's bounty procured his place at
+Christ's Hospital, was very much touched indeed, the dear child,
+with Mr. Bonnington's discourse last Sunday three weeks, and
+refused to play marbles afterwards at school?  The wicked, naughty
+boys beat the poor child; but Adolphus has his consolation!  Is
+Master Edward well, ma'am, and Master Robert, and Master Frederick,
+and dear little funny Master William?
+
+MRS. B.--Thank you, Mrs. Prior; you have a good heart, indeed!
+
+MRS. P.--Ah, what blessings those dears are to you!  I wish your
+dearest little GRANDSON---
+
+MRS. B.--The little naughty wretch!  Do you know, Mrs. Prior, my
+grandson, George Milliken, spilt the ink over my dear husband's
+bands, which he keeps in his great dictionary; and fought with my
+child, Frederick, who is three years older than George--actually
+beat his own uncle!
+
+MRS. P.--Gracious mercy!  Master Frederick was not hurt, I hope?
+
+MRS. B.--No; he cried a great deal; and then Robert came up, and
+that graceless little George took a stick; and then my husband came
+out, and do you know George Milliken actually kicked Mr. Bonnington
+on his shins, and butted him like a little naughty ram?
+
+MRS. P.--Mercy! mercy! what a little rebel!  He is spoiled, dear
+madam, and you know by WHOM.
+
+MRS. B.--By his grandmamma Kicklebury.  I know it.  I want my son
+to whip that child, but he refuses.  He will come to no good; that
+child.
+
+MRS. P.--Ah, madam, don't say so!  Let us hope for the best.
+Master George's high temper will subside when certain persons who
+pet him are gone away.
+
+MRS. B.--Gone away! they never will go away!  No, mark my words,
+Mrs. Prior, that woman will never go away.  She has made the house
+her own: she commands everything and everybody in it.  She has
+driven me--me--Mr. Milliken's own mother--almost out of it.  She
+has so annoyed my dear husband, that Mr. Bonnington will scarcely
+come here.  Is she not always sneering at private tutors, because
+Mr. Bonnington was my son's private tutor, and greatly valued by
+the late Mr. Milliken?  Is she not making constant allusions to old
+women marrying young men, because Mr. Bonnington happens to be
+younger than me?  I have no words to express my indignation
+respecting Lady Kicklebury.  She never pays any one, and runs up
+debts in the whole town.  Her man Bulkeley's conduct in the
+neighborhood is quite--quite--
+
+MRS. P.--Gracious goodness, ma'am, you don't say so!  And then what
+an appetite the gormandizing monster has!  Mary tells me that what
+he eats in the servants' hall is something perfectly frightful.
+
+MRS. B.--Everybody feeds on my poor son!  You are looking at my
+cap, Mrs. Prior?  [During this time MRS. PRIOR has been peering
+into a parcel which MRS. BONNINGTON brought in her hand.]  I
+brought it with me across the Park.  I could not walk through the
+Park in my cap.  Isn't it a pretty ribbon, Mrs. Prior?
+
+MRS. P.--Beautiful! beautiful?  How blue becomes you!  Who would
+think you were the mother of Mr. Milliken and seven other darling
+children?  You can afford what Lady Kicklebury cannot.
+
+MRS. B.--And what is that, Prior?  A poor clergyman's wife, with a
+large family, cannot afford much.
+
+MRS. P.--He! he!  You can afford to be seen as you are, which Lady
+K. cannot.  Did you not remark how afraid she seemed lest I should
+enter her dressing-room?  Only Pinhorn, her maid, goes there, to
+arrange the roses, and the lilies, and the figure--he! he!  Oh,
+what a sweet, sweet cap-ribbon!  When you have worn it, and are
+tired of it, you will give it me, won't you?  It will be good
+enough for poor old Martha Prior!
+
+MRS. B.--Do you really like it?  Call at Greenwood Place, Mrs.
+Prior, the next time you pay Richmond a visit, and bring your
+little girl with you, and we will see.
+
+MRS. P.--Oh, thank you! thank you!  Nay, don't be offended!  I
+must! I must!  [Kisses MRS. BONNINGTON.]
+
+MRS. B.--There, there!  We must not stay chattering!  The bell has
+rung.  I must go and put the cap on, Mrs. Prior.
+
+MRS. P.--And I may come too?  YOU are not afraid of my seeing your
+hair, dear Mrs. Bonnington!  Mr. Bonnington too young for YOU!
+Why, you don't look twenty!
+
+MRS. B.--Oh, Mrs. Prior!
+
+MRS. P.--Well, five-and-twenty, upon my word--not more than five-
+and-twenty--and that is the very prime of life.  [Exeunt Mrs. B.
+and Mrs. P., hand in hand.  As Captain TOUCHIT enters, dressed for
+dinner, he bows and passes on.]
+
+TOUCHIT.--So, we are to wear our white cravats, and our varnished
+boots, and dine in ceremony.  What is the use of a man being a
+widower, if he can't dine in his shooting-jacket?  Poor Mill!  He
+has the slavery now without the wife.  [He speaks sarcastically to
+the picture.]  Well, well! Mrs. Milliken!  YOU, at any rate, are
+gone; and with the utmost respect for you, I like your picture even
+better than the original.  Miss Prior!
+
+Enter Miss PRIOR.
+
+MISS PRIOR.--I beg pardon.  I thought you were gone to dinner.  I
+heard the second bell some time since.  [She is drawing back.]
+
+TOUCHIT.--Stop! I say, Julia!  [She returns, he looks at her, takes
+her hand.]  Why do you dress yourself in this odd poky way?  You
+used to be a very smartly dressed girl.  Why do you hide your hair,
+and wear such a dowdy, high gown, Julia?
+
+JULIA.--You mustn't call me Julia, Captain Touchit.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Why? when I lived in your mother's lodging, I called you
+Julia.  When you brought up the tea, you didn't mind being called
+Julia.  When we used to go to the play with the tickets the Editor
+gave us, who lived on the second floor--
+
+JULIA.--The wretch!--don't speak of him!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Ah! I am afraid he was a sad deceiver, that Editor.  He
+was a very clever fellow.  What droll songs he used to sing!  What
+a heap of play-tickets, diorama-tickets, concert-tickets, he used
+to give you!  Did he touch your heart, Julia?
+
+JULIA.--Fiddlededee!  No man ever touched my heart, Captain
+Touchit.
+
+TOUCHIT.--What! not even Tom Flight, who had the second floor after
+the Editor left it--and who cried so bitterly at the idea of going
+out to India without you?  You had a tendre for him--a little
+passion--you know you had.  Why, even the ladies here know it.
+Mrs. Bonnington told me that you were waiting for a sweetheart in
+India to whom you were engaged; and Lady Kicklebury thinks you are
+dying in love for the absent swain.
+
+JULIA.--I hope--I hope--you did not contradict them, Captain
+Touchit.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Why not, my dear?
+
+JULIA.--May I be frank with you?  You were a kind, very kind friend
+to us--to me, in my youth.
+
+TOUCHIT.--I paid my lodgings regularly, and my bills without asking
+questions.  I never weighed the tea in the caddy, or counted the
+lumps of sugar, or heeded the rapid consumption of my liqueur--
+
+JULIA.--Hush, hush! I know they were taken.  I know you were very
+good to us.  You helped my poor papa out of many a difficulty.
+
+TOUCHIT [aside].--Tipsy old coal-merchant!  I did, and he helped
+himself too.
+
+JULIA.--And you were always our best friend, Captain Touchit.  When
+our misfortunes came, you got me this situation with Mrs. Milliken--
+and, and--don't you see?--
+
+TOUCHIT.--Well--what?
+
+JULIA [laughing].--I think it is best, under the circumstances,
+that the ladies here should suppose I am engaged to be married--or
+or, they might be--might be jealous, you understand.  Women are
+sometimes jealous of others,--especially mothers and mothers-in-
+law.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Oh, you arch schemer!  And it is for that you cover up
+that beautiful hair of yours, and wear that demure cap?
+
+JULIA [slyly].--I am subject to rheumatism in the head, Captain
+Touchit.
+
+TOUCHIT.--It is for that you put on the spectacles, and make
+yourself look a hundred years old?
+
+JULIA.--My eyes are weak, Captain Touchit.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Weak with weeping for Tom Flight.  You hypocrite!  Show
+me your eyes!
+
+MISS P.--Nonsense!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Show me your eyes, I say, or I'll tell about Tom Flight
+and that he has been married at Madras these two years.
+
+MISS P.--Oh, you horrid man! [takes glasses off.]  There.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Translucent orbs! beams of flashing light! lovely lashes
+veiling celestial brightness!  No, they haven't cried much for Tom
+Flight, that faithless captain! nor for Lawrence O'Reilly, that
+killing Editor.  It is lucky you keep the glasses on them, or they
+would transfix Horace Milliken, my friend the widower here.  DO you
+always wear them when you are alone with him?
+
+MISS P.--I never AM alone with him.  Bless me!  If Lady Kicklebury
+thought my eyes were--well, well--you know what I mean,--if she
+thought her son-in-law looked at me, I should be turned out of
+doors the next day, I am sure I should.  And then, poor Mr.
+Milliken! he never looks at ME--heaven help him!  Why, he can't see
+me for her ladyship's nose and awful caps and ribbons!  He sits and
+looks at the portrait yonder, and sighs so.  He thinks that he is
+lost in grief for his wife at this very moment.
+
+TOUCHIT.--What a woman that was--eh, Julia--that departed angel!
+What a temper she had before her departure!
+
+MISS P.--But the wind was tempered to the lamb.  If she was angry--
+the lamb was so very lamblike, and meek, and fleecy.
+
+TOUCHIT.--And what a desperate flirt the departed angel was!  I
+knew half a dozen fellows, before her marriage, whom she threw
+over, because Milliken was so rich.
+
+MISS P.--She was consistent at least, and did not change after
+marriage, as some ladies do; but flirted, as you call it, just as
+much as before.  At Paris, young Mr. Verney, the attache, was never
+out of the house: at Rome, Mr. Beard, the artist, was always
+drawing pictures of her: at Naples, when poor Mr. M. went away to
+look after his affairs at St. Petersburg, little Count Posilippo
+was for ever coming to learn English and practise duets.  She
+scarcely ever saw the poor children--[changing her manner as Lady
+KICKLEBURY enters]  Hush--my lady!
+
+TOUCHIT.--You may well say, "poor children," deprived of such a
+woman!  Miss Prior, whom I knew in very early days--as your
+ladyship knows--was speaking--was speaking of the loss our poor
+friend sustained.
+
+LADY K.--Ah, sir, what a loss! [looking at the picture.]
+
+TOUCHIT.--What a woman she was--what a superior creature!
+
+LADY K.--A creature--an angel!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Mercy upon us! how she and my lady used to quarrel!
+[aside.]  What a temper!
+
+LADY K.--Hm--oh, yes--what a temper [rather doubtfully at first].
+
+TOUCHIT.--What a loss to Milliken and the darling children!
+
+MISS PRIOR.--Luckily they have YOU with them madam.
+
+LADY K.--And I will stay with them, Miss Prior; I will stay with
+them!  I will never part from Horace, I am determined.
+
+MISS P.--Ah! I am very glad you stay, for if I had not YOU for a
+protector, I think you know I must go, Lady Kicklebury.  I think
+you know there are those who would forget my attachment to these
+darling children, my services to--to her--and dismiss the poor
+governess.  But while you stay I can stay, dear Lady Kicklebury!
+With you to defend me from jealousy I need not QUITE be afraid.
+
+LADY K.--Of Mrs. Bonnington?  Of Mr. Milliken's mother; of the
+parson's wife who writes out his stupid sermons, and has half a
+dozen children of her own?  I should think NOT indeed!  I am the
+natural protector of these children.  I am their mother.  I have no
+husband!  You STAY in this house, Miss Prior.  You are a faithful,
+attached creature--though you were sent in by somebody I don't like
+very much [pointing to TOUCHIT, who went off laughing when JULIA
+began her speech, and is now looking at prints, &c., in next room].
+
+MISS P.--Captain Touchit may not be in all things what one could
+wish.  But his kindness has formed the happiness of my life in
+making me acquainted with YOU, ma'am: and I am sure you would not
+have me be ungrateful to him.
+
+LADY K.--A most highly principled young woman.  [Goes out in garden
+and walks up and down with Captain TOUCHIT.]
+
+Enter Mrs. BONNINGTON.
+
+MISS P.--Oh, how glad I am you are come, Mrs. Bonnington.  Have you
+brought me that pretty hymn you promised me?  You always keep your
+promises, even to poor governesses.  I read dear Mr. Bonnington's
+sermon!  It was so interesting that I really could not think of
+going to sleep until I had read it all through; it was delightful,
+but oh! it's still better when he preaches it!  I hope I did not do
+wrong in copying a part of it?  I wish to impress it on the
+children.  There are some worldly influences at work with them,
+dear madam [looking at Lady K. in the garden], which I do my feeble
+effort to--to modify.  I wish YOU could come oftener.
+
+MRS. B.--I will try, my dear--I will try.  Emily has sweet
+dispositions.
+
+MISS P.--Ah, she takes after her grandmamma Bonnington!
+
+MRS. B.--But George was sadly fractious just now in the school-room
+because I tried him with a tract.
+
+MISS P.--Let us hope for better times!  Do be with your children,
+dear Mrs. Bonnington, as constantly as ever you can, for MY sake as
+well as theirs!  I want protection and advice as well as they do.
+The GOVERNESS, dear lady, looks up to you as well as the pupils;
+SHE wants the teaching which you and dear Mr. Bonnington can give
+her!  Ah, why could not Mr. and Mrs. Bonnington come and live here,
+I often think?  The children would have companions in their dear
+young uncles and aunts; so pleasant it would be.  The house is
+quite large enough; that is, if her ladyship did not occupy the
+three south rooms in the left wing.  Ah, why, WHY couldn't you
+come?
+
+MRS. B.--You are a kind, affectionate creature, Miss Prior.  I do
+not very much like the gentleman who recommended you to Arabella,
+you know.  But I do think he sent my son a good governess for his
+children.
+
+Two Ladies walk up and down in front garden.
+
+TOUCHIT enters.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Miss Julia Prior, you are a wonder!  I watch you with
+respect and surprise.
+
+MISS P.--Me! what have I done? a poor friendless governess--respect
+ME?
+
+TOUCHIT.--I have a mind to tell those two ladies what I think of
+Miss Julia Prior.  If they knew you as I know you, O Julia Prior,
+what a short reign yours would be!
+
+MISS P.--I have to manage them a little.  Each separately it is not
+so difficult.  But when they are together, oh, it is very hard
+sometimes.
+
+Enter MILLIKEN dressed, shakes hands with Miss P.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Miss Prior! are you well?  Have the children been good?
+and learned all their lessons?
+
+MISS P.--The children are pretty good, sir.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Well, that's a great deal as times go.  Do not bother
+them with too much learning, Miss Prior.  Let them have an easy
+life.  Time enough for trouble when age comes.
+
+Enter John.
+
+JOHN.--Dinner, sir.  [And exit.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--Dinner, ladies.  My Lady Kicklebury (gives arm to Lady K).
+
+LADY K.--My dear Horace, you SHOULDN'T shake hands with Miss Prior.
+You should keep people of that class at a distance, my dear
+creature.  [They go in to dinner, Captain TOUCHIT following with
+Mrs. BONNINGTON.  As they go out, enter MARY with children's tea-
+tray, &c., children following, and after them Mrs. PRIOR.  MARY
+gives her tea.]
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Thank you, Mary!  You are so very kind!  Oh, what
+delicious tea!
+
+GEORGY.--I say, Mrs. Prior, I dare say you would like to dine best,
+wouldn't you?
+
+MRS. P.--Bless you, my darling love, I had my dinner at one o'clock
+with my children at home.
+
+GEORGY.--So had we: but we go in to dessert very often; and then
+don't we have cakes and oranges and candied-peel and macaroons and
+things!  We are not to go in to-day; because Bella ate so many
+strawberries she made herself ill.
+
+BELLA.--So did you.
+
+GEORGY.--I'm a man, and men eat more than women, twice as much as
+women.  When I'm a man I'll eat as much cake as ever I like.  I
+say, Mary, give us the marmalade.
+
+MRS. P.--Oh, what nice marmalade!  I know of some poor children--
+
+MISS P.--Mamma! don't, mamma [in an imploring tone].
+
+MRS. P.--I know of two poor children at home, who have very seldom
+nice marmalade and cake, young people.
+
+GEORGE.--You mean Adolphus and Frederick and Amelia, your children.
+Well, they shall have marmalade and cake.
+
+BELLA.--Oh, yes!  I'll give them mine.
+
+MRS. P.--Darling, dearest child!
+
+GEORGE [his mouth full].--I won't give 'em mine: but they can have
+another pot, you know.  You have always got a basket with you, Mrs.
+Prior.  I know you have.  You had it that day you took the cold
+fowl.
+
+MRS. P.--For the poor blind black man! oh, how thankful he was!
+
+GEORGE.--I don't know whether it was for a black man.  Mary, get us
+another pot of marmalade.
+
+MARY.--I don't know, Master George.
+
+GEORGE.--I WILL have another pot of marmalade.  If you don't, I'll--
+I'll smash everything--I will.
+
+BELLA.--Oh, you naughty, rude boy!
+
+GEORGE.--Hold YOUR tongue!  I WILL have it.  Mary shall go and get
+it.
+
+MRS. P.--Do humor him, Mary; and I'm sure my poor children at home
+will be the better for it.
+
+GEORGE.--There's your basket! now put this cake in, and this pat of
+butter, and this sugar.  Hurray, hurray!  Oh, what jolly fun!  Tell
+Adolphus and Amelia I sent it to them--tell 'em they shall never
+want for anything as long as George Kicklebury Milliken, Esq., can
+give it 'em.  Did Adolphus like my gray coat that I didn't want?
+
+MISS P.--You did not give him your new gray coat?
+
+GEORGE.--Don't you speak to me; I'm going to school--I'm not going
+to have no more governesses soon.
+
+MRS. P.--Oh, my dear Master George, what a nice coat it is, and how
+well my poor boy looked in it!
+
+MISS P.--Don't, mamma!  I pray and entreat you not to take the
+things!
+
+Enter JOHN from dining-room with a tray.
+
+JOHN.--Some cream, some jelly, a little champagne, Miss Prior; I
+thought you might like some.
+
+GEORGE.--Oh, jolly! give us hold of the jelly! give us a glass of
+champagne.
+
+JOHN.--I will not give you any.
+
+GEORGE.--I'll smash every glass in the room if you don't; I'll cut
+my fingers; I'll poison myself--there!  I'll eat all this sealing-
+wax if you don't, and it's rank poison, you know it is.
+
+MRS. P.--My dear Master George!  [Exit JOHN.]
+
+GEORGE.--Ha, ha! I knew you'd give it me; another boy taught me
+that.
+
+BELLA.--And a very naughty, rude boy.
+
+GEORGE.--He, he, he! hold your tongue Miss!  And said he always got
+wine so; and so I used to do it to my poor mamma, Mrs. Prior.
+Usedn't to like mamma much.
+
+BELLA.--Oh, you wicked boy!
+
+GEORGY.--She usedn't to see us much.  She used to say I tried her
+nerves: what's nerves, Mrs. Prior?  Give us some more champagne!
+Will have it.  Ha, ha, ha! ain't it jolly?  Now I'll go out and
+have a run in the garden.  [Runs into garden].
+
+MRS. P.--And you, my dear?
+
+BELLA.--I shall go and resume the perusal of the "Pilgrim's
+Progress," which my grandpapa, Mr. Bonnington, sent me.  [Exit
+ARABELLA.]
+
+MISS P.--How those children are spoilt!  Goodness; what can I do?
+If I correct one, he flies to grandmamma Kicklebury; if I speak to
+another, she appeals to grandmamma Bonnington.  When I was alone
+with them, I had them in something like order.  Now, between the
+one grandmother and the other, the children are going to ruin, and
+so would the house too, but that Howell--that odd, rude, but honest
+and intelligent creature, I must say--keeps it up.  It is wonderful
+how a person in his rank of life should have instructed himself so.
+He really knows--I really think he knows more than I do myself.
+
+MRS. P.--Julia dear!
+
+MISS P.--What is it, mamma?
+
+MRS. P.--Your little sister wants some underclothing sadly, Julia
+dear, and poor Adolphus's shoes are quite worn out.
+
+MISS P.--I thought so; I have given you all I could, mamma.
+
+MRS. P.--Yes, my love! you are a good love, and generous, heaven
+knows, to your poor old mother who has seen better days.  If we had
+not wanted, would I have ever allowed you to be a governess--a poor
+degraded governess?  If that brute O'Reilly who lived on our second
+floor had not behaved so shamefully wicked to you, and married Miss
+Flack, the singer, might you not have been Editress of the Champion
+of Liberty at this very moment, and had your Opera box every night?
+[She drinks champagne while talking, and excites herself.]
+
+MISS P.--Don't take that, mamma.
+
+MRS. P.--Don't take it? why, it costs nothing; Milliken can afford
+it.  Do you suppose I get champagne every day?  I might have had it
+as a girl when I first married your father, and we kep' our gig and
+horse, and lived at Clapham, and had the best of everything.  But
+the coal-trade is not what it was, Julia.  We met with misfortunes,
+Julia, and we went into poverty: and your poor father went into the
+Bench for twenty-three months--two year all but a month he did--and
+my poor girl was obliged to dance at the "Coburg Theatre"--yes you
+were, at ten shillings a week, in the Oriental ballet of "The
+Bulbul and the Rose:" you were, my poor darling child.
+
+MISS P.--Hush, hush, mamma!
+
+MRS. P.--And we kep' a lodging-house in Bury Street, St. James's,
+which your father's brother furnished for us, who was an extensive
+oil-merchant.  He brought you up; and afterwards he quarrelled with
+my poor James, Robert Prior did, and he died, not leaving us a
+shilling.  And my dear eldest boy went into a wine-merchant's
+office: and my poor darling Julia became a governess, when you had
+had the best of education at Clapham; you had, Julia.  And to think
+that you were obliged, my blessed thing, to go on in the Oriental
+ballet of "The Rose and the Bul--"
+
+MISS P.--Mamma, hush, hush! forget that story.
+
+Enter Page from dining-room.
+
+PAGE.--Miss Prior! please, the ladies are coming from the dining-
+room.  Mrs. B. have had her two glasses of port, and her ladyship
+is now a-telling the story about the Prince of Wales when she
+danced with him at Canton House.  [Exit Page.]
+
+MISS P.--Quick, quick!  There, take your basket!  Put on your
+bonnet, and good-night, mamma.  Here, here is a half sovereign and
+three shillings; it is all the money I have in the world; take it,
+and buy the shoes for Adolphus.
+
+MRS. P.--And the underclothing, my love--little Amelia's
+underclothing?
+
+MISS P.--We will see about it.  Good-night [kisses her].  Don't be
+seen here,--Lady K. doesn't like it.
+
+Enter Gentlemen and Ladies from dining-room.
+
+LADY K.--We follow the Continental fashion.  We don't sit after
+dinner, Captain Touchit.
+
+CAPTAIN T.--Confound the Continental fashion!  I like to sit a
+little while after dinner [aside].
+
+MRS. B.--So does my dear Mr. Bonnington, Captain Touchit.  He likes
+a little port-wine after dinner.
+
+TOUCHIT.--I'm not surprised at it, ma am.
+
+MRS. B.--When did you say your son was coming, Lady Kicklebury?
+
+LADY K.--My Clarence!  He will be here immediately, I hope, the
+dear boy.  You know my Clarence?
+
+TOUCHIT.--Yes, ma'am.
+
+LADY K.--And like him, I'm sure, Captain Touchit!  Everybody does
+like Clarence Kicklebury.
+
+TOUCHIT.--The confounded young scamp!  I say, Horace, do you like
+your brother-in-law?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Well--I--I can't say--I--like him--in fact, I don't.
+But that's no reason why his mother shouldn't.  [During this,
+HOWELL, preceded by BULKELEY, hands round coffee.  The garden
+without has darkened, as if evening.  BULKELEY is going away
+without offering coffee to Miss PRIOR.  JOHN stamps on his foot,
+and points to her.  Captain TOUCHIT, laughing, goes up and talks to
+her now the servants are gone.]
+
+MRS. B.--Horace! I must tell you that the waste at your table is
+shocking.  What is the need of opening all this wine?  You and Lady
+Kicklebury were the only persons who took champagne.
+
+TOUCHIT.--I never drink it--never touch the rubbish!  Too old a
+stager!
+
+LADY K.--Port, I think, is your favorite, Mrs. Bonnington?
+
+MRS. B.--My dear lady, I do not mean that you should not have
+champagne, if you like.  Pray, pray, don't be angry!  But why on
+earth, for you, who take so little, and Horace, who only drinks it
+to keep you company, should not Howell open a pint instead of a
+great large bottle?
+
+LADY K.--Oh, Howell! Howell!  We must not mention Howell, my dear
+Mrs. Bonnington.  Howell is faultless!  Howell has the keys of
+everything!  Howell is not to be controlled in anything!  Howell is
+to be at liberty to be rude to my servant!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Is that all?  I am sure I should have thought your man
+was big enough to resent any rudeness from poor little Howell.
+
+LADY K.--Horace!  Excuse me for saying that you don't know--the--
+the class of servant to whom Bulkeley belongs.  I had him, as a
+great favor, from Lord Toddleby.  That class of servant is
+accustomed generally not to go out single.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Unless they are two behind a carriage-perch they pine
+away, as one love-bird does without his mate!
+
+LADY K.--No doubt! no doubt!  I only say you are not accustomed
+here--in this kind of establishment, you understand--to that class
+of--
+
+MRS. B.--Lady Kicklebury! is my son's establishment not good enough
+for any powdered monster in England?  Is the house of a British
+merchant--?
+
+LADY K.--My dear creature! my dear creature! it IS the house of a
+British merchant, and a very comfortable house.
+
+MRS. B.--Yes, as you find it.
+
+LADY K.--Yes, as I find it, when I come to take care of my
+departed, angel's children, Mrs. Bonnington--[pointing to picture]--
+of THAT dear seraph's orphans, Mrs. Bonnington.  YOU cannot.  You
+have other duties--other children--a husband at home in delicate
+health, who--
+
+MRS. B.--Lady Kicklebury, no one shall say I don't take care of my
+dear husband!
+
+MILLIKEN.--My dear mother!  My dear Lady Kicklebury!  [To T., who
+has come forward.]  They spar so every night they meet, Touchit.
+Ain't it hard?
+
+LADY K.--I say you DO take care of Mr. Bonnington, Mrs. Bonnington,
+my dear creature! and that is why you can't attend to Horace.  And
+as he is of a very easy temper--except sometimes with his poor
+Arabella's mother--he allows all his tradesmen to cheat him, all
+his servants to cheat him, Howell to be rude to everybody--to me
+amongst other people, and why not to my servant Bulkeley, with whom
+Lord Toddleby's groom of the chambers gave me the very highest
+character.
+
+MRS. B.--I'm surprised that noblemen HAVE grooms in their chambers.
+I should think they were much better in the stables.  I am sure I
+always think so when we dine with Doctor Clinker.  His man does
+bring such a smell of the stable with him.
+
+LADY K.--He! he! you mistake, my dearest creature!  Your poor
+mother mistakes, my good Horace.  You have lived in a quiet and
+most respectable sphere--but not--not--
+
+MRS. B.--Not what, Lady Kicklebury?  We have lived at Richmond
+twenty years--in my late husband's time--when we saw a great deal
+of company, and when this dear Horace was a dear boy at Westminster
+School.  And we have PAID for everything we have had for twenty
+years, and we have owed not a penny to any TRADESMAN, though we
+mayn't have had POWDERED FOOTMEN SIX FEET HIGH, who were
+impertinent to all the maids in the place--Don't! I WILL speak,
+Horace--but servants who loved us, and who lived in our families.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Mamma, now, my dear, good old mother!  I am sure Lady
+Kicklebury meant no harm.
+
+LADY K.--Me! my dear Horace! harm!  What harm could I mean?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Come! let us have a game at whist.  Touchit, will you
+make a fourth?  They go on so every night almost.  Ain't it a pity,
+now?
+
+TOUCHIT.--Miss Prior generally plays, doesn't she?
+
+MILLIKEN.--And a very good player, too.  But I thought you might
+like it.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Well, not exactly.  I don't like sixpenny points, Horace,
+or quarrelling with old dragons about the odd trick.  I will go and
+smoke a cigar on the terrace, and contemplate the silver Thames,
+the darkling woods, the starry hosts of heaven.  I--I like smoking
+better than playing whist.  [MILLIKEN rings bell.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--Ah, George! you're not fit for domestic felicity.
+
+TOUCHIT.--No, not exactly.
+
+HOWELL enters.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Lights and a whist-table.  Oh, I see you bring 'em.  You
+know everything I want.  He knows everything I want, Howell does.
+Let us cut.  Miss Prior, you and I are partners!
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+SCENE.--As before.
+
+
+LADY K.--Don't smoke, you naughty boy.  I don't like it.  Besides,
+it will encourage your brother-in-law to smoke.
+
+CLARENCE K.--Anything to oblige you, I'm sure.  But can't do
+without it, mother; it's good for my health.  When I was in the
+Plungers, our doctor used to say, "You ought never to smoke more
+than eight cigars a day"--an order, you know, to do it--don't you
+see?
+
+LADY K.--Ah, my child!  I am very glad you are not with those
+unfortunate people in the East.
+
+K.--So am I.  Sold out just in time.  Much better fun being here,
+than having the cholera at Scutari.  Nice house, Milliken's.  Snob,
+but good fellow--good cellar, doosid good cook.  Really, that salmi
+yesterday,--couldn't have it better done at the "Rag" now.  You
+have got into good quarters here, mother.
+
+LADY K.--The meals are very good, and the house is very good; the
+manners are not of the first order.  But what can you expect of
+city people?  I always told your poor dear sister, when she married
+Mr. Milliken, that she might look for everything substantial,--but
+not manners.  Poor dear Arabella WOULD marry him.
+
+K.--Would! that is a good one, mamma!  Why, you made her!  It's a
+dozen years ago.  But I recollect, when I came home from Eton,
+seeing her crying because Charley Tufton--
+
+LADY K.--Mr. Tufton had not a shilling to bless himself with.  The
+marriage was absurd and impossible.
+
+K.--He hadn't a shilling then.  I guess he has plenty now.  Elder
+brother killed, out hunting.  Father dead.  Tuf a baronet, with
+four thousand a year if he's a shilling.
+
+LADY K.--Not so much.
+
+K.--Four thousand if it's a shilling.  Why, the property adjoins
+Kicklebury's--I ought to know.  I've shot over it a thousand times.
+Heh! I remember, when I was quite a young 'un, how Arabella used to
+go out into Tufton Park to meet Charley--and he is a doosid good
+fellow, and a gentlemanlike fellow, and a doosid deal better than
+this city fellow.
+
+LADY K.--If you don't like this city fellow, Clarence, why do you
+come here? why didn't you stop with your elder brother at
+Kicklebury?
+
+K.--Why didn't I?  Why didn't YOU stop at Kicklebury, mamma?
+Because you had notice to quit.  Serious daughter-in-law, quarrels
+about management of the house--row in the building.  My brother
+interferes, and politely requests mamma to shorten her visit.  So
+it is with your other two daughters; so it was with Arabella when
+she was alive.  What shindies you used to have with her, Lady
+Kicklebury!  Heh! I had a row with my brother and sister about a
+confounded little nursery-maid.
+
+LADY K.--Clarence!
+
+K.--And so I had notice to quit too.  And I'm in very good quarters
+here, and I intend to stay in 'em, mamma.  I say--
+
+LADY K.--What do you say?
+
+K.--Since I sold out, you know, and the regiment went abroad,
+confound me, the brutes at the "Rag" will hardly speak to me!  I
+was so ill, I couldn't go.  Who the doose can live the life I've
+led and keep health enough for that infernal Crimea?  Besides, how
+could I help it?  I was so cursedly in debt that I was OBLIGED to
+have the money, you know.  YOU hadn't got any.
+
+LADY K.--Not a halfpenny, my darling.  I am dreadfully in debt
+myself.
+
+K.--I know you are.  So am I.  My brother wouldn't give me any, not
+a dump.  Hang him!  Said he had his children to look to.  Milliken
+wouldn't advance me any more--said I did him in that horse
+transaction.  He! he! he! so I did!  What had I to do but to sell
+out?  And the fellows cut me, by Jove.  Ain't it too bad?  I'll
+take my name off the "Rag," I will, though.
+
+LADY K.--We must sow our wild oats, and we must sober down; and we
+must live here, where the living is very good and very cheap,
+Clarence, you naughty boy!  And we must get you a rich wife.  Did
+you see at church yesterday that young woman in light green, with
+rather red hair and a pink bonnet?
+
+K.--I was asleep, ma'am, most of the time, or I was bookin' up the
+odds for the Chester Cup.  When I'm bookin' up, I think of nothin'
+else, ma'am,--nothin'.
+
+LADY K.--That was Miss Brocksopp--Briggs, Brown and Brocksopp, the
+great sugar-bakers.  They say she will have eighty thousand pound.
+We will ask her to dinner here.
+
+K.--I say--why the doose do you have such old women to dinner here?
+Why don't you get some pretty girls?  Such a set of confounded old
+frumps as eat Milliken's mutton I never saw.  There's you, and his
+old mother Mrs. Bonnington, and old Mrs. Fogram, and old Miss
+What's-her-name, the woman with the squint eye, and that immense
+Mrs. Crowder.  It's so stoopid, that if it weren't for Touchit
+coming down sometimes, and the billiards and boatin', I should die
+here--expire, by gad!  Why don't you have some pretty women into
+the house, Lady Kicklebury?
+
+LADY K.--Why!  Do you think I want that picture taken down: and
+another Mrs. Milliken?  Wisehead!  If Horace married again, would
+he be your banker, and keep this house, now that ungrateful son of
+mine has turned me out of his?  No pretty woman shall come into the
+house whilst I am here.
+
+K.--Governess seems a pretty woman: weak eyes, bad figure, poky,
+badly dressed, but doosid pretty woman.
+
+LADY K.--Bah!  There is no danger from HER.  She is a most faithful
+creature, attached to me beyond everything.  And her eyes--her eyes
+are weak with crying for some young man who is in India.  She has
+his miniature in her room, locked up in one of her drawers.
+
+K.--Then how the doose did you come to see it?
+
+LADY K.--We see a number of things, Clarence.  Will you drive with
+me?
+
+K.--Not as I knows on, thank you.  No, Ma; drivin's TOO slow: and
+you're goin' to call on two or three old dowagers in the Park?
+Thank your ladyship for the delightful offer.
+
+Enter JOHN.
+
+JOHN.--Please, sir, here's the man with the bill for the boats; two
+pound three.
+
+K.--Damn it, pay it--don't bother ME!
+
+JOHN.--Haven't got the money, sir.
+
+LADY K.--Howell!  I saw Mr. Milliken give you a cheque for twenty-
+five pounds before he went into town this morning.  Look sir [runs,
+opens drawer, takes out cheque-book].  There it is, marked,
+"Howell, 25L."
+
+JOHN.--Would your ladyship like to step down into my pantry and see
+what I've paid with the twenty-five pounds?  Did my master leave
+any orders that your ladyship was to inspect my accounts?
+
+LADY K.--Step down into the pantry! inspect your accounts?  I never
+heard such impertinence.  What do you mean, sir?
+
+K.--Dammy, sir, what do you mean?
+
+JOHN.--I thought as her ladyship kept a heye over my master's
+private book, she might like to look at mine too.
+
+LADY K.--Upon my word, this insolence is too much.
+
+JOHN.--I beg your ladyship's pardon.  I am sure I have said
+nothing.
+
+K.--Said, sir! your manner is mutinous, by Jove, sir! if I had you
+in the regiment!--
+
+JOHN.--I understood that you had left the regiment, sir, just
+before it went on the campaign, sir.
+
+K.--Confound you, sir!  [Starts up.]
+
+LADY K.--Clarence, my child, my child!
+
+JOHN.--Your ladyship needn't be alarmed; I'm a little man, my lady,
+but I don't think Mr. Clarence was a-goin' for to hit me, my lady;
+not before a lady, I'm sure.  I suppose, sir, that you WON'T pay
+the boatman?
+
+K.--No, sir, I won't pay him, nor any man who uses this sort of
+damned impertinence!
+
+JOHN.--I told Rullocks, sir, I thought it was JEST possible you
+wouldn't.  [Exit.]
+
+K.--That's a nice man, that is--an impudent villain!
+
+LADY K.--Ruined by Horace's weakness.  He ruins everybody, poor
+good-natured Horace!
+
+K.--Why don't you get rid of the blackguard?
+
+LADY K.--There is a time for all things, my dear.  This man is very
+convenient to Horace.  Mr. Milliken is exceedingly lazy, and Howell
+spares him a great deal of trouble.  Some day or other I shall take
+all this domestic trouble off his hands.  But not yet: your poor
+brother-in-law is restive, like many weak men.  He is subjected to
+other influences: his odious mother thwarts me a great deal.
+
+K.--Why, you used to be the dearest friends in the world.  I
+recollect when I was at Eton--
+
+LADY K.--Were; but friendship don't last for ever.  Mrs. Bonnington
+and I have had serious differences since I came to live here: she
+has a natural jealousy, perhaps, at my superintending her son's
+affairs.  When she ceases to visit at the house, as she very
+possibly will, things will go more easily; and Mr. Howell will go
+too, you may depend upon it.  I am always sorry when my temper
+breaks out, as it will sometimes.
+
+K.--Won't it, that's all!
+
+LADY K.--At his insolence, my temper is high; so is yours, my dear.
+Calm it for the present, especially as regards Howell.
+
+K.--Gad! d'you know I was very nearly pitching into him?  But once,
+one night in the Haymarket, at a lobster-shop, where I was with
+some fellows, we chaffed some other fellows, and there was one
+fellah--quite a little fellah--and I pitched into him, and he gave
+me the most confounded lickin' I ever had in my life, since my
+brother Kicklebury licked me when we were at Eton; and that, you
+see, was a lesson to me, ma'am.  Never trust those little fellows,
+never chaff 'em: dammy, they may be boxers.
+
+LADY K.--You quarrelsome boy!  I remember you coming home with your
+naughty head SO bruised.  [Looks at watch.]  I must go now to take
+my drive.  [Exit LADY K.]
+
+K.--I owe a doose of a tick at that billiard-room; I shall have
+that boatman dunnin' me.  Why hasn't Milliken got any horses to
+ride?  Hang him! suppose he can't ride--suppose he's a tailor.  He
+ain't MY tailor, though, though I owe him a doosid deal of money.
+There goes mamma with that darling nephew and niece of mine.
+[Enter BULKELEY].  Why haven't you gone with my lady, you, sir?
+[to Bulkeley.]
+
+BULKELEY.--My lady have a-took the pony-carriage, sir; Mrs.
+Bonnington have a-took the hopen carriage and 'orses, sir, this
+mornin', which the Bishop of London is 'olding a confirmation at
+Teddington, sir, and Mr. Bonnington is attending the serimony.  And
+I have told Mr. 'Owell, sir, that my lady would prefer the hopen
+carriage, sir, which I like the hexercise myself, sir, and that the
+pony-carriage was good enough for Mrs. Bonnington, sir; and Mr.
+'Owell was very hinsolent to me, sir; and I don't think I can stay
+in the 'ouse with him.
+
+K.--Hold your jaw, sir.
+
+BULKELEY.--Yes, sir.  [Exit BULKELEY.]
+
+K.--I wonder who that governess is?--sang rather prettily last
+night--wish she'd come and sing now--wish she'd come and amuse me--
+I've seen her face before--where have I seen her face?--it ain't at
+all a bad one.  What shall I do? dammy, I'll read a book: I've not
+read a book this ever so long.  What's here? [looks amongst books,
+selects one, sinks down in easy-chair so as quite to be lost.]
+
+Enter Miss PRIOR.
+
+MISS PRIOR.--There's peace in the house! those noisy children are
+away with their grandmamma.  The weather is beautiful, and I hope
+they will take a long drive.  Now I can have a quiet half-hour, and
+finish that dear pretty "Ruth"--oh, how it makes me cry, that
+pretty story.  [Lays down her bonnet on table--goes to glass--takes
+off cap and spectacles--arranges her hair--Clarence has got on
+chair looking at her.]
+
+K.--By Jove! I know who it is now!  Remember her as well as
+possible.  Four years ago, when little Foxbury used to dance in the
+ballet over the water.  DON'T I remember her!  She boxed my ears
+behind the scenes, by jingo.  [Coming forward].  Miss Pemberton!
+Star of the ballet!  Light of the harem!  Don't you remember the
+grand Oriental ballet of the "Bulbul and the Peri?"
+
+MISS P.--Oh! [screams.]  No, n--no, sir.  You are mistaken: my name
+is Prior.  I--never was at the "Coburg Theatre."  I--
+
+K. [seizing her hand].--No, you don't, though!  What! don't you
+remember well that little hand slapping this face? which nature
+hadn't then adorned with whiskers, by gad!  You pretend you have
+forgotten little Foxbury, whom Charley Calverley used to come
+after, and who used to drive to the "Coburg" every night in her
+brougham.  How did you know it was the "Coburg?"  That IS a good
+one!  HAD you there, I think.
+
+MISS P.--Sir, in the name of heaven, pity me!  I have to keep my
+mother and my sisters and my brothers.  When--when you saw me, we
+were in great poverty; and almost all the wretched earnings I made
+at that time were given to my poor father then lying in the Queen's
+Bench hard by.  You know there was nothing against my character--
+you know there was not.  Ask Captain Touchit whether I was not a
+good girl.  It was he who brought me to this house.
+
+K.--Touchit! the old villain!
+
+MISS P.--I had your sister's confidence.  I tended her abroad on
+her death-bed.  I have brought up your nephew and niece.  Ask any
+one if I have not been honest?  As a man, as a gentleman, I entreat
+you to keep my secret!  I implore you for the sake of my poor
+mother and her children! [kneeling.]
+
+K.--By Jove! how handsome you are!  How crying becomes your eyes!
+Get up; get up.  Of course I'll keep your secret, but--
+
+MISS P.--Ah! ah!  [She screams as he tries to embrace her.  HOWELL
+rushes in.]
+
+HOWELL.--Hands off, you little villain!  Stir a step and I'll kill
+you, if you were a regiment of captains!  What! insult this lady
+who kept watch at your sister's death-bed and has took charge of
+her children!  Don't be frightened, Miss Prior.  Julia--dear, dear
+Julia--I'm by you.  If the scoundrel touches you, I'll kill him.
+I--I love you--there--it's here--love you madly--with all my 'art--
+my a-heart!
+
+MISS P.--Howell--for heaven's sake, Howell!
+
+K.--Pooh--ooh! [bursting with laughter].  Here's a novel, by jingo!
+Here's John in love with the governess.  Fond of plush, Miss
+Pemberton--ey?  Gad, it's the best thing I ever knew.  Saved a good
+bit, ey, Jeames?  Take a public-house?  By Jove! I'll buy my beer
+there.
+
+JOHN.--Owe for it, you mean.  I don't think your tradesmen profit
+much by your custom, ex-Cornet Kicklebury.
+
+K.--By Jove! I'll do for you, you villain!
+
+JOHN.--No, not that way, Captain.  [Struggles with and throws him.]
+
+K. [screams.]--Hallo, Bulkeley!  [Bulkeley is seen strolling in the
+garden.]
+
+Enter BULKELEY.
+
+BULKELEY.--What is it, sir?
+
+K.--Take this confounded villain off me, and pitch him into the
+Thames--do you hear?
+
+JOHN.--Come here, and I'll break every bone in your hulking body.
+[To BULKELEY.]
+
+BULKELEY.--Come, come! whathever his hall this year row about?
+
+MISS P.--For heaven's sake don't strike that poor man.
+
+BULKELEY.--YOU be quiet.  What's he a-hittin' about my master for?
+
+JOHN.--Take off your hat, sir, when you speak to a lady.  [Takes up
+a poker.]  And now come on, both of you, cowards!  [Rushes at
+BULKELEY and knocks his hat off his head.]
+
+BULKELEY [stepping back].--If you'll put down that there poker, you
+know, then I'll pitch into you fast enough.  But that there poker
+ain't fair, you know.
+
+K.--You villain! of course you will leave this house.  And, Miss
+Prior, I think you understand that you will go too.  I don't think
+my niece wants to learn DANCIN', you understand.  Good-by.  Here,
+Bulkeley!  [Gets behind footman and exit.]
+
+MISS P.--Do you know the meaning of that threat, Mr. Howell?
+
+JOHN.--Yes, Miss Prior.
+
+MISS P.--I was a dancer once, for three months, four years ago,
+when my poor father was in prison.
+
+JOHN.--Yes, Miss Prior, I knew it.  And I saw you a many times.
+
+MISS P.--And you kept my secret?
+
+JOHN.--Yes, Ju--Jul--Miss Prior.
+
+MISS P.--Thank you, and God bless you, John Howell.  There, there.
+You mustn't! indeed you mustn't!
+
+JOHN.--You don't remember the printer's boy who used to come to Mr.
+O'Reilly, and sit in your 'all in Bury Street, Miss Prior?  I was
+that boy.  I was a country-bred boy--that is if you call Putney
+country, and Wimbledon Common and that.  I served the Milliken
+family seven year.  I went with Master Horace to college, and then
+I revolted against service, and I thought I'd be a man and turn
+printer like Doctor Frankling.  And I got in an office: and I went
+with proofs to Mr. O'Reilly, and I saw you.  And though I might
+have been in love with somebody else before I did--yet it was all
+hup when I saw you.
+
+MISS P. [kindly.]--YOU must not talk to me in that way, John
+Howell.
+
+JOHN.--Let's tell the tale out.  I couldn't stand the newspaper
+night-work.  I had a mother and brothers and sisters to keep, as
+you had.  I went back to Horace Milliken and said, Sir, I've lost
+my work.  I and mine want bread.  Will you take me back again?  And
+he did.  He's a kind, kind soul is my master.
+
+MISS P.--He IS a kind, kind soul.
+
+JOHN.--He's good to all the poor.  His hand's in his pocket for
+everybody.  Everybody takes advantage of him.  His mother-in-lor
+rides over him.  So does his Ma.  So do I, I may say; but that's
+over now; and you and I have had our notice to quit.  Miss, I
+should say.
+
+MISS P.--Yes.
+
+JOHN.--I have saved a bit of money--not much--a hundred pound.
+Miss Prior--Julia--here I am--look--I'm a poor feller--a poor
+servant--but I've the heart of a man--and--I love you--oh! I love
+you!
+
+MARY.--Oh ho--ho!  [Mary has entered from garden, and bursts out
+crying.]
+
+MISS P.--It can't be, John Howell--my dear, brave, kind John
+Howell.  It can't be.  I have watched this for some time past, and
+poor Mary's despair here.  [Kisses Mary, who cries plentifully.]
+You have the heart of a true, brave man, and must show it and prove
+it now.  I am not--am not of your pardon me for saying so--of your
+class in life.  I was bred by my uncle, away from my poor parents,
+though I came back to them after his sudden death; and to poverty,
+and to this dependent life I am now leading.  I am a servant, like
+you, John, but in another sphere--have to seek another place now;
+and heaven knows if I shall procure one, now that that unlucky
+passage in my life is known.  Oh, the coward to recall it! the
+coward!
+
+MARY.--But John whopped him, Miss! that he did.  He gave it him
+well, John did.  [Crying.]
+
+MISS P.--You can't--you ought not to forego an attachment like
+that, John Howell.  A more honest and true-hearted creature never
+breathed than Mary Barlow.
+
+JOHN.--No, indeed.
+
+MISS P.--She has loved you since she was a little child.  And you
+loved her once, and do now, John.
+
+MARY.--Oh, Miss! you hare a hangel,--I hallways said you were a
+hangel.
+
+MISS P.--You are better than I am, my dear much, much better than I
+am, John.  The curse of my poverty has been that I have had to
+flatter and to dissemble, and hide the faults of those I wanted to
+help, and to smile when I was hurt, and laugh when I was sad, and
+to coax, and to tack, and to bide my time,--not with Mr. Milliken:
+he is all honor, and kindness, and simplicity.  Who did HE ever
+injure, or what unkind word did HE ever say?  But do you think,
+with the jealousy of those poor ladies over his house, I could have
+stayed here without being a hypocrite to both of them?  Go, John.
+My good, dear friend, John Howell, marry Mary.  You'll be happier
+with her than with me.  There! There!  [They embrace.]
+
+MARY.--O--o--o! I think I'll go and hiron hout Miss Harabella's
+frocks now.  [Exit MARY.]
+
+Enter MILLIKEN with CLARENCE--who is explaining things to him.
+
+CLARENCE.--Here they are, I give you my word of honor.  Ask 'em,
+damn em.
+
+MILLIKEN.--What is this I hear?  You, John Howell, have dared to
+strike a gentleman under my roof!  Your master's brother-in-law?
+
+JOHN.--Yes, by Jove! and I'd do it again.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Are you drunk or mad, Howell?
+
+JOHN.--I'm as sober and as sensible as ever I was in my life, sir--
+I not only struck the master, but I struck the man, who's twice as
+big, only not quite as big a coward, I think.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Hold your scurrilous tongues sir!  My good nature ruins
+everybody about me.  Make up your accounts.  Pack your trunks--and
+never let me see your face again.
+
+JOHN.--Very good, sir.
+
+MILLIKEN.--I suppose, Miss Prior, you will also be disposed to--to
+follow Mr. Howell?
+
+MISS P.--To quit you, now you know what has passed?  I never
+supposed it could be otherwise--I deceived you, Mr. Milliken--as I
+kept a secret from you, and must pay the penalty.  It is a relief
+to me, the sword has been hanging over me.  I wish I had told your
+poor wife, as I was often minded to do.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Oh, you were minded to do it in Italy, were you?
+
+MISS P.--Captain Touchit knew it, sir, all along: and that my
+motives and, thank God, my life were honorable.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Oh, Touchit knew it, did he? and thought it honorable--
+honorable.  Ha! ha! to marry a footman--and keep a public-house?
+I--I beg your pardon, John Howell--I mean nothing against you, you
+know.  You're an honorable man enough, except that you have been
+damned insolent to my brother-in-law.
+
+JOHN.--Oh, heaven!  [JOHN strikes his forehead, and walks away.]
+
+MISS P.--You mistake me, sir.  What I wished to speak of was the
+fact which this gentleman has no doubt communicated to you--that I
+danced on the stage for three months.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Oh, yes.  Oh, damme, yes.  I forgot.  I wasn't thinking
+of that.
+
+KICKLEBURY.--You see she owns it.
+
+MISS P.--We were in the depths of poverty.  Our furniture and
+lodging-house under execution--from which Captain Touchit, when he
+came to know of our difficulties, nobly afterwards released us.  My
+father was in prison, and wanted shillings for medicine, and I--I
+went and danced on the stage.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Well?
+
+MISS P.--And I kept the secret afterwards; knowing that I could
+never hope as governess to obtain a place after having been a
+stage-dancer.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Of course you couldn't,--it's out of the question; and
+may I ask, are you going to resume that delightful profession when
+you enter the married state with Mr. Howell?
+
+MISS P.--Poor John! it is not I who am going to--that is, it's
+Mary, the school-room maid.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Eternal blazes!  Have you turned Mormon, John Howell,
+and are you going to marry the whole house?
+
+JOHN.--I made a hass of myself about Miss Prior.  I couldn't help
+her being l--l--lovely.
+
+KICK.--Gad, he proposed to her in my presence.
+
+JOHN.--What I proposed to her, Cornet Clarence Kicklebury, was my
+heart and my honor, and my best, and my everything--and you--you
+wanted to take advantage of her secret, and you offered her
+indignities, and you laid a cowardly hand on her--a cowardly hand!--
+and I struck you, and I'd do it again.
+
+MILLIKEN.--What?  Is this true?  [Turning round very fiercely to K.]
+
+KICK.--Gad!  Well--I only--
+
+MILLIKEN.--You only what?  You only insulted a lady under my roof--
+the friend and nurse of your dead sister--the guardian of my
+children.  You only took advantage of a defenceless girl, and would
+have extorted your infernal pay out of her fear.  You miserable
+sneak and coward!
+
+KICK.--Hallo!  Come, come!  I say I won't stand this sort of chaff.
+Dammy, I'll send a friend to you!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Go out of that window, sir.  March! or I will tell my
+servant, John Howell, to kick you out, you wretched little scamp!
+Tell that big brute,--what's-his-name?--Lady Kicklebury's man, to
+pack this young man's portmanteau and bear's-grease pots; and if
+ever you enter these doors again, Clarence Kicklebury, by the
+heaven that made me!--by your sister who is dead!--I will cane your
+life out of your bones.  Angel in heaven!  Shade of my Arabella--to
+think that your brother in your house should be found to insult the
+guardian of your children!
+
+JOHN.--By jingo, you're a good-plucked one!  I knew he was, Miss,--
+I told you he was.  [Exit, shaking hands with his master, and with
+Miss P., and dancing for joy.  Exit CLARENCE, scared, out of
+window.]
+
+JOHN [without].--Bulkeley! pack up the Capting's luggage!
+
+MILLIKEN.--How can I ask your pardon, Miss Prior?  In my wife's
+name I ask it--in the name of that angel whose dying-bed you
+watched and soothed--of the innocent children whom you have
+faithfully tended since.
+
+MISS P.--Ah, sir! it is granted when you speak so to me.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Eh, eh--d--don't call me sir!
+
+MISS P.--It is for me to ask pardon for hiding what you know now:
+but if I had told you--you--you never would have taken me into your
+house--your wife never would.
+
+MILLIKEN.--No, no.  [Weeping.]
+
+MISS P.--My dear, kind Captain Touchit knows it all.  It was by his
+counsel I acted.  He it was who relieved our distress.  Ask him
+whether my conduct was not honorable--ask him whether my life was
+not devoted to my parents--ask him when--when I am gone.
+
+MILLIKEN.--When you are gone, Julia!  Why are you going?  Why
+should you go, my love--that is--why need you go, in the devil's
+name?
+
+MISS P.--Because, when your mother--when your mother-in-law come to
+hear that your children's governess has been a dancer on the stage,
+they will send me away, and you will not have the power to resist
+them.  They ought to send me away, sir; but I have acted honestly
+by the children and their poor mother, and you'll think of me
+kindly when--I--am--gone?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Julia, my dearest--dear--noble--dar--the devil! here's
+old Kicklebury.
+
+Enter Lady K., Children, and CLARENCE.
+
+LADY K.--So, Miss Prior! this is what I hear, is it?  A dancer in
+my house! a serpent in my bosom--poisoning--yes, poisoning those
+blessed children! occasioning quarrels between my own son and my
+dearest son-in-law; flirting with the footman!  When do you intend
+to leave, madam, the house which you have po--poll--luted?
+
+MISS P.--I need no hard language, Lady Kicklebury: and I will reply
+to none.  I have signified to Mr. Milliken my wish to leave his
+house.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Not, not, if you will stay.  [To Miss P.]
+
+LADY K.--Stay, Horace! she shall NEVER stay as governess in this
+house!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Julia! will you stay as mistress?  You have known me
+for a year alone--before, not so well--when the house had a
+mistress that is gone.  You know what my temper is, and that my
+tastes are simple, and my heart not unkind.  I have watched you,
+and have never seen you out of temper, though you have been tried.
+I have long thought you good and beautiful, but I never thought to
+ask the question which I put to you now:--come in, sir! [to
+CLARENCE at door]:--now that you have been persecuted by those who
+ought to have upheld you, and insulted by those who owed you
+gratitude and respect.  I am tired of their domination, and as
+weary of a man's cowardly impertinence [to CLARENCE] as of a
+woman's jealous tyranny.  They have made what was my Arabella's
+home miserable by their oppression and their quarrels.  Julia! my
+wife's friend, my children's friend! be mine, and make me happy!
+Don't leave me, Julia! say you won't--say you won't--dearest--
+dearest girl!
+
+MISS P.--I won't--leave--you.
+
+GEORGE [without].--Oh, I say!  Arabella, look here: here's papa
+a-kissing Miss Prior!
+
+LADY K.--Horace--Clarence my son!  Shade of my Arabella! can you
+behold this horrible scene, and not shudder in heaven!  Bulkeley!
+Clarence! go for a doctor--go to Doctor Straitwaist at the Asylum--
+Horace Milliken, who has married the descendant of the Kickleburys
+of the Conqueror, marry a dancing-girl off the stage!  Horace
+Milliken! do you wish to see me die in convulsions at your feet?  I
+writhe there, I grovel there.  Look! look at me on my knees! your
+own mother-in-law! drive away this fiend!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Hem! I ought to thank you, Lady Kicklebury, for it is
+you that have given her to me.
+
+LADY K.--He won't listen! he turns away and kisses her horrible
+hand.  This will never do: help me up, Clarence, I must go and
+fetch his mother.  Ah, ah! there she is, there she is!  [Lady K.
+rushes out, as the top of a barouche, with Mr. and Mrs. BONNINGTON
+and Coachman, is seen over the gate.]
+
+MRS. B.--What is this I hear, my son, my son?  You are going to
+marry a--a stage-dancer? you are driving me mad, Horace!
+
+MILLIKEN.--Give me my second chance, mother, to be happy.  You have
+had yourself two chances.
+
+MRS. B.--Speak to him, Mr. Bonnington.  [BONNINGTON makes dumb
+show.]
+
+LADY K.--Implore him, Mr. Bonnington.
+
+MRS. B.--Pray, pray for him, Mr. Bonnington, my love--my lost,
+abandoned boy!
+
+LADY K.--Oh, my poor dear Mrs. Bonnington!
+
+MRS. B.--Oh, my poor dear Lady Kicklebury.  [They embrace each
+other.]
+
+LADY K.--I have been down on my knees to him, dearest Mrs.
+Bonnington.
+
+MRS. B.--Let us both--both go down on our knees--I WILL [to her
+husband].  Edward, I will!  [Both ladies on their knees.
+BONNINGTON with outstretched hands behind them.]  Look, unhappy
+boy! look, Horace! two mothers on their wretched knees before you,
+imploring you to send away this monster!  Speak to him, Mr.
+Bonnington.  Edward! use authority with him, if he will not listen
+to his mother--
+
+LADY K.--To his mothers!
+
+Enter TOUCHIT.
+
+TOUCHIT.--What is this comedy going on, ladies and gentlemen?  The
+ladies on their elderly knees--Miss Prior with her hair down her
+back.  Is it tragedy or comedy--is it a rehearsal for a charade, or
+are we acting for Horace's birthday? or, oh!--I beg your
+Reverence's pardon--you were perhaps going to a professional duty?
+
+MR. B.--It's WE who are praying this child, Touchit.  This child,
+with whom you used to come home from Westminster when you were
+boys.  You have influence with him; he listens to you.  Entreat him
+to pause in his madness.
+
+TOUCHIT.--What madness?
+
+MRS. B.--That--that woman--that serpent yonder--that--that dancing-
+woman, whom you introduced to Arabella Milliken,--ah! and I rue the
+day:--Horace is going to mum--mum--marry her!
+
+TOUCHIT.--Well! I always thought he would.  Ever since I saw him
+and her playing at whist together, when I came down here a month
+ago, I thought he would do it.
+
+MRS. B.--Oh, it's the whist, the whist!  Why did I ever play at
+whist, Edward?  My poor Mr. Milliken used to like his rubber.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Since he has been a widower--
+
+LADY K.--A widower of that angel!  [Points to picture.]
+
+TOUCHIT.--Pooh, pooh, angel!  You two ladies have never given the
+poor fellow any peace.  You were always quarrelling over him.  You
+took possession of his house, bullied his servants, spoiled his
+children; you did, Lady Kicklebury.
+
+LADY K.--Sir, you are a rude, low, presuming, vulgar man.
+Clarence! beat this rude man!
+
+TOUCHIT.--From what I have heard of your amiable son, he is not in
+the warlike line, I think.  My dear Julia, I am delighted with all
+my heart that my old friend should have found a woman of sense,
+good conduct, good temper--a woman who has had many trials, and
+borne them with great patience--to take charge of him and make him
+happy.  Horace, give me your hand!  I knew Miss Prior in great
+poverty.  I am sure she will bear as nobly her present good
+fortune; for good fortune it is to any woman to become the wife of
+such a loyal, honest, kindly gentleman as you are!
+
+Enter JOHN.
+
+JOHN.--If you please, my lady--if you please, sir--Bulkeley--
+
+LADY K.--What of Bulkeley, sir?
+
+JOHN.--He has packed his things, and Cornet Kicklebury's things, my
+lady.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Let the fellow go.
+
+JOHN.--He won't go, sir, till my lady have paid him his book and
+wages.  Here's the book, sir.
+
+LADY K.--Insolence! quit my presence!  And I, Mr. Milliken, will
+quit a house--
+
+JOHN.--Shall I call your ladyship a carriage?
+
+LADY K.--Where I have met with rudeness, cruelty, and fiendish [to
+Miss P., who smiles and curtsies]--yes, fiendish ingratitude.  I
+will go, I say, as soon as I have made arrangements for taking
+other lodgings.  You cannot expect a lady of fashion to turn out
+like a servant.
+
+JOHN.--Hire the "Star and Garter" for her, sir.  Send down to the
+"Castle;" anything to get rid of her.  I'll tell her maid to pack
+her traps.  Pinhorn!  [Beckons maid and gives orders.]
+
+TOUCHIT.--You had better go at once, my dear Lady Kicklebury.
+
+LADY K.--Sir!
+
+TOUCHIT.--THE OTHER MOTHER-IN-LAW IS COMING!  I met her on the road
+with all her family.  He! he! he!  [Screams.]
+
+Enter Mrs. PRIOR and Children.
+
+MRS. P.--My lady! I hope your ladyship is quite well!  Dear, kind
+Mrs. Bonnington!  I came to pay my duty to you, ma'am.  This is
+Charlotte, my lady--the great girl whom your ladyship so kindly
+promised the gown for; and this is my little girl, Mrs. Bonnington,
+ma'am, please; and this is my Bluecoat boy.  Go and speak to dear,
+kind Mr. Milliken--our best friend and protector--the son and son-
+in-law of these dear ladies.  Look, sir!  He has brought his copy
+to show you.  [Boy shows copy.]  Ain't it creditable to a boy of
+his age, Captain Touchit?  And my best and most grateful services
+to you, sir.  Julia, Julia, my dear, where's your cap and
+spectacles, you stupid thing?  You've let your hair drop down.
+What! what!--[Begins to be puzzled.]
+
+MRS. B.--Is this collusion, madam?
+
+MRS. P.--Collusion, dear Mrs. Bonnington!
+
+LADY K.--Or insolence, Mrs. Prior!
+
+MRS. P.--Insolence, your ladyship!  What--what is it? what has
+happened?  What's Julia's hair down for?  Ah! you've not sent the
+poor girl away? the poor, poor child, and the poor, poor children!
+
+TOUCHIT.--That dancing at the "Coburg" has come out, Mrs. Prior.
+
+MRS. P.--Not the darling's fault.  It was to help her poor father
+in prison.  It was I who forced her to do it.  Oh! don't, don't,
+dear Lady Kicklebury, take the bread out of the mouths of these
+poor orphans!  [Crying.]
+
+MILLIKEN.--Enough of this, Mrs. Prior: your daughter is not going
+away.  Julia has promised to stay with me--and--never to leave me--
+as governess no longer, but as wife to me.
+
+MRS. P.--Is it--is it true, Julia?
+
+MISS P.--Yes, mamma.
+
+MRS. P.--Oh! oh! oh!  [Flings down her umbrella, kisses JULIA, and
+running to MILLIKEN,]  My son, my son!  Come here, children.  Come,
+Adolphus, Amelia, Charlotte--kiss your dear brother, children.
+What, my dears!  How do you do, dears? [to MILLIKEN'S children].
+Have they heard the news?  And do you know that my daughter is
+going to be your mamma?  There--there--go and play with your little
+uncles and aunts, that's good children!  [She motions off the
+Children, who retire towards garden.  Her manner changes to one of
+great patronage and intense satisfaction.]  Most hot weather, your
+ladyship, I'm sure.  Mr. Bonnington, you must find it hot weather
+for preachin'!  Lor'! there's that little wretch beatin' Adolphus!
+George, sir! have done, sir!  [Runs to separate them.]  How ever
+shall we make those children agree, Julia?
+
+MISS P.--They have been a little spoiled, and I think Mr. Milliken
+will send George and Arabella to school, mamma: will you not,
+Horace?
+
+MR. MILLIKEN.--I think school will be the very best thing for them.
+
+MRS. P.--And [Mrs. P. whispers, pointing to her own children] the
+blue room, the green room, the rooms old Lady Kick has--plenty of
+room for us, my dear!
+
+MISS P.--No, mamma, I think it will be too large a party,--Mr.
+Milliken has often said that he would like to go abroad, and I hope
+that now he will be able to make his tour.
+
+MRS. P.--Oh, then! we can live in the house, you know: what's the
+use of payin' lodgin', my dear?
+
+MISS P.--The house is going to be painted.  You had best live in
+your own house, mamma; and if you want anything, Horace, Mr.
+Milliken, I am sure, will make it comfortable for you.  He has had
+too many visitors of late, and will like a more quiet life, I
+think.  Will you not?
+
+MILLIKEN.--I shall like a life with YOU, Julia.
+
+JOHN.--Cab, sir, for her ladyship!
+
+LADY K.--This instant let me go!  Call my people.  Clarence, your
+arm!  Bulkeley, Pinhorn!  Mrs. Bonnington, I wish you good-morning!
+Arabella, angel! [looks at picture] I leave you.  I shall come to
+you ere long.  [Exit, refusing MILLIKEN's hand, passes up garden,
+with her servants following her.  MARY and other servants of the
+house are collected together, whom Lady K. waves off.  Bluecoat boy
+on wall eating plums.  Page, as she goes, cries, Hurray, hurray!
+Bluecoat boy cries, Hurray!  When Lady K. is gone, JOHN advances.]
+
+JOHN.--I think I heard you say, sir, that it was your intention to
+go abroad?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Yes; oh, yes!  Are we going abroad, my Julia?
+
+MISS P.--To settle matters, to have the house painted, and clear
+[pointing to children, mother, &c.]  Don't you think it is the best
+thing that we can do?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Surely, surely: we are going abroad.  Howell, you will
+come with us of course, and with your experiences you will make a
+capital courier.  Won't Howell make a capital courier, Julia?  Good
+honest fellow, John Howell.  Beg your pardon for being so rude to
+you just now.  But my temper is very hot, very.
+
+JOHN [laughing].--You are a Tartar, sir.  Such a tyrant! isn't he,
+ma'am?
+
+MISS P.--Well, no; I don't think you have a very bad temper, Mr.
+Milliken, a--Horace.
+
+JOHN.--You must--take care of him--alone, Miss Prior--Julia--I mean
+Mrs. Milliken.  Man and boy I've waited on him this fifteen year:
+with the exception of that trial at the printing-office, which--
+which I won't talk of NOW, madam.  I never knew him angry; though
+many a time I have known him provoked.  I never knew him say a hard
+word, though sometimes perhaps we've deserved it.  Not often--such
+a good master as that is pretty sure of getting a good servant--
+that is, if a man has a heart in his bosom; and these things are
+found both in and out of livery.  Yes, I have been a honest servant
+to him,--haven't I, Mr. Milliken?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Indeed, yes, John.
+
+JOHN.--And so has Mary Barlow.  Mary, my dear!  [Mary comes
+forward.]  Will you allow me to introduce you, sir, to the futur'
+Mrs. Howell?--if Mr. Bonnington does YOUR little business for you,
+as I dare say [turning to Mr. B.], hold gov'nor, you will!--Make it
+up with your poor son, Mrs. Bonnington, ma'am.  You have took a
+second 'elpmate, why shouldn't Master Horace? [to Mrs. B.]  He--he
+wants somebody to help him, and take care of him, more than you do.
+
+TOUCHIT.--You never spoke a truer word in your life, Howell.
+
+JOHN.--It's my general 'abit, Capting, to indulge in them sort of
+statements.  A true friend I have been to my master, and a true
+friend I'll remain when he's my master no more.
+
+MILLIKEN.--Why, John, you are not going to leave me?
+
+JOHN.--It's best, sir, I should go.  I--I'm not fit to be a servant
+in this house any longer.  I wish to sit in my own little home,
+with my own little wife by my side.  Poor dear! you've no
+conversation, Mary, but you're a good little soul.  We've saved a
+hundred pound apiece, and if we want more, I know who won't grudge
+it us, a good fellow--a good master--for whom I've saved many a
+hundred pound myself, and will take the "Milliken Arms" at old
+Pigeoncot--and once a year or so, at this hanniversary, we will pay
+our respects to you, sir, and madam.  Perhaps we will bring some
+children with us, perhaps we will find some more in this villa.
+Bless 'em beforehand!  Good-by, sir, and madam--come away, Mary!
+[going].
+
+MRS. P. [entering with clothes, &c.]--She has not left a single
+thing in her room.  Amelia, come here! this cloak will do capital
+for you, and this--this garment is the very thing for Adolphus.
+Oh, John! eh, Howell! will you please to see that my children have
+something to eat, immediately!  The Milliken children, I suppose,
+have dined already?
+
+JOHN.--Yes, ma'am; certainly, ma'am.
+
+MRS. P.--I see he is inclined to be civil to me NOW!
+
+MISS P.--John Howell is about to leave us, mamma.  He is engaged to
+Mary Barlow, and when we go away, he is going to set up
+housekeeping for himself.  Good-by, and thank you, John Howell
+[gives her hand to JOHN, but with great reserve of manner].  You
+have been a kind and true friend to us--if ever we can serve you,
+count upon us--may he not, Mr. Milliken?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Always, always.
+
+MISS P.--But you will still wait upon us--upon Mr. Milliken, for a
+day or two, won't you, John, until we--until Mr. Milliken has found
+some one to replace you.  He will never find any one more honest
+than you, and good, kind little Mary.  Thank you, Mary, for your
+goodness to the poor governess.
+
+MARY.--Oh miss! oh mum!  [Miss P. kisses Mary patronizingly].
+
+MISS P. [to JOHN].--And after they have had some refreshment, get a
+cab for my brothers and sister, if you please, John.  Don't you
+think that will be best, my--my dear?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Of course, of course, dear Julia!
+
+MISS P.--And, Captain Touchit, you will stay, I hope, and dine with
+Mr. Milliken?  And, Mrs. Bonnington, if you will receive as a
+daughter one who has always had a sincere regard for you, I think
+you will aid in making your son happy, as I promise you with all my
+heart and all my life to endeavor to do.  [Miss P. and M. go up to
+Mrs. BONNINGTON.]
+
+MRS. BONNINGTON.--Well, there, then, since it must be so, bless
+you, my children.
+
+TOUCHIT.--Spoken like a sensible woman!  And now, as I do not wish
+to interrupt this felicity, I will go and dine at the "Star and
+Garter."
+
+MISS P.--My dear Captain Touchit, not for worlds!  Don't you know I
+mustn't be alone with Mr. Milliken until--until--?
+
+MILLIKEN.--Until I am made the happiest man alive! and you will
+come down and see us often, Touchit, won't you?  And we hope to see
+our friends here often.  And we will have a little life and spirit
+and gayety in the place.  Oh, mother! oh, George! oh, Julia! what a
+comfort it is to me to think that I am released from the tyranny of
+that terrible mother-in-law!
+
+MRS. PRIOR.--Come in to your teas, children.  Come this moment, I
+say.  [The Children pass quarrelling behind the characters, Mrs.
+PRIOR summoning them; JOHN and MARY standing on each side of the
+dining-room door, as the curtain falls.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext The Wolves and the Lamb by Thackeray
+
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