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.