JANE. So it be, Miss Eglantine; so it be. I never see the beat on't.
Better give him the mitten out of hand, miss.
EGLANTINE. Instantly, if he were here. The wretch! How dare he?
JANE. I'll call him. (_To door. Knocks._) Mr. Whittermat! I say!--He's
furrin, miss.--Mr. Whittermat! (_Knocks furiously._)
(_WHITWELL comes out of chamber; sees EGLANTINE._)
WHITWELL (_aside_). Ha! my partner at Lady Thornton's!
EGLANTINE (_aside_). Why, this is the gentleman I danced with at Sir
Edward's! What nonsense is this about his being deaf? Jane, this
gentleman hears as well as I do myself. What do you mean?
JANE. Does he, miss? Reckon not. You shall see.
WHITWELL (_aside_). How annoying I can't give a hint to Miss Coddle! If
that troublesome minx were only out of the way, now!
JANE (_in ordinary voice_). Young man, you may suit Mr. Coddle, and I
des'say you does, but you don't suit _here_. So git up and git.
EGLANTINE. Jane!
JANE. Pshaw! Miss Eglantine, he can't hear nary a sound.
WHITWELL (_aside_). _You_ couldn't, if my finger and thumb were to meet
on your ear, you vixen! (_To EGLANTINE._) Miss Coddle is excessively
kind to receive me with such condescending politeness.
JANE. Ha, ha, ha! I told you so, Miss Eglantine. He thinks I paid him a
compliment, sartain as yeast.
EGLANTINE. Very strange! When I met this poor gentleman at Lady
Thornton's, he was not afflicted in this way.
JANE. Wasn't he, miss? Well, he's paying for all his sins now. It's
providential, I've no doubt.
WHITWELL (_aloud_). Pity me, Miss Coddle. A dreadful misfortune has
befallen me since I had the pleasure of meeting you at the Thorntons'.
My horse fell with me, and in falling I struck on my head. I have been
totally deaf ever since.
EGLANTINE. Poor, poor young man! My heart bleeds for him.
WHITWELL. Ordinary conversation I am incapable of hearing; but you,
Miss Coddle, whose loveliness has never been absent from my memory
since that happy day, you I am certain I could understand with ease. My
eyes will help me to interpret the movements of your lips. Speak to me,
and the poor sufferer whose sorrows awake your healing pity will surely
hear.
EGLANTINE. Can this be possible?
WHITWELL. You said, "Can this be possible?" I am sure.
EGLANTINE. Yes.
WHITWELL. I knew it.
JANE. The dickens! Can he hear with his eyes? (_Aside._) I hope old
Coddle won't never get that 'ere accomplishment.
EGLANTINE. Oh, how sad! What a misfortune! But a deaf husband! Oh,
impossible! (_Exit slowly, I. U., much distressed._)
WHITWELL (_follows to door_). Stay, oh, stay, Miss Coddle!
JANE (_laughing_). Ha, ha! Don't flatter yourself, puppy. She's not for
you, jolterhead!
WHITWELL (_shakes JANE violently_). I'm a jolterhead, am I? A puppy, am
I?