MAR. Not just yet--if I talk a little more to the gentleman he'll get
used to me, and won't notice my grammar. And I'm not going to stand
mumchance and try to talk that horrid gibberish you've been wanting to
teach me, when I've got a good English tongue of my own. Leave me
alone, Billy, or I'll set Growler at you. Please don't mind us, Sir
(_to BLENHEIM_), man and wife, you know, when in company often have a
few snaps at one another on the sly, and, as it's nobody's business
but their own, why, of course you don't know what we're snapping
about, do you?
BLEN. Certainly not, my lady.
MAR. Of course! I suppose _you_'ve been educated, haven't you, Sir?
BLEN. Your husband and I were at college together.
MAR. I know what you mean--you were schoolfellows. Well, I dare say
you're very glad to see one another. I know I should be very glad to
see my cousin Joe--we were schoolfellows, too--used to go to Old
Mother Tickle's, at the first house in the village, close to the duck
pond. Oh, many and many's the time I've pushed him into it--up to his
knees! Oh lord! it was so _bong-bong_--that's a bit of French--do you
understand it, Sir?
SIR W. (_who has crossed behind to BLENHEIM_) Don't you, don't you
pity me?
BLEN. I think her charming--it's natural gaiety of heart, nothing
more.
SIR W. No, no, you're pleased to compliment.
MAR. (_comes between them_) Hallo! you're whispering! where's your
manners, whispering before a lady? Is that your education, my dear?
SIR W. I stand corrected.
MAR. Corrected? why, I haven't touched you--though you deserve to
catch toko, that you do.
SIR W. Well, my dear friend, I shall expect you to dine with us
to-day.
MAR. Ah, do! come and take pot luck!
SIR W. Lady Evergreen, I implore you!
MAR. If he knows my meaning what does it matter? You'll come, won't
you? Oh, do! and bring some of the sojers with you--I like sojers!
What are you, a sharpshooter, or a--what d'ye call 'em?
BLEN. In the infantry, your ladyship.
MAR. Infant--infantry! Oh! what, young 'uns in arms?
SIR W. No, no, my dear!
MAR. I know, bless you! but I like what I used to see in the
country--the--the yeo-ho---- No, yeo-ho's sailors--the yeomanry,
that's it! I like them best--such red jackets with yellow insides, and
a thing on their heads like a tin pot with a large fox's brush pulled
over it. Oh, didn't they look prime!