FullReads

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.