Part 11 (1/2)

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 G.o.d, 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 d.a.m.ned 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, n.o.bly afterwards released us. My father was in prison, and wanted s.h.i.+llings 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 ha.s.s 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.