FullReads

MILLIKEN.–No, no. [Weeping.]

MISS P.–My dear, kind Captain Touchit knows it all. It was by his counsel I acted. He it was who relieved our distress. Ask him whether my conduct was not honorable–ask him whether my life was not devoted to my parents–ask him when–when I am gone.

MILLIKEN.–When you are gone, Julia! Why are you going? Why should you go, my love–that is–why need you go, in the devil’s name?

MISS P.–Because, when your mother–when your mother-in-law come to hear that your children’s governess has been a dancer on the stage, they will send me away, and you will not have the power to resist them. They ought to send me away, sir; but I have acted honestly by the children and their poor mother, and you’ll think of me kindly when–I–am–gone?

MILLIKEN.–Julia, my dearest–dear–noble–dar–the devil! here’s old Kicklebury.

Enter Lady K., Children, and CLARENCE.

LADY K.–So, Miss Prior! this is what I hear, is it? A dancer in my house! a serpent in my bosom–poisoning–yes, poisoning those blessed children! occasioning quarrels between my own son and my dearest son-in-law; flirting with the footman! When do you intend to leave, madam, the house which you have po–poll–luted?

MISS P.–I need no hard language, Lady Kicklebury: and I will reply to none. I have signified to Mr. Milliken my wish to leave his house.

MILLIKEN.–Not, not, if you will stay. [To Miss P.]

LADY K.–Stay, Horace! she shall NEVER stay as governess in this house!

MILLIKEN.–Julia! will you stay as mistress? You have known me for a year alone–before, not so well–when the house had a mistress that is gone. You know what my temper is, and that my tastes are simple, and my heart not unkind. I have watched you, and have never seen you out of temper, though you have been tried. I have long thought you good and beautiful, but I never thought to ask the question which I put to you now:–come in, sir! [to CLARENCE at door]:–now that you have been persecuted by those who ought to have upheld you, and insulted by those who owed you gratitude and respect. I am tired of their domination, and as weary of a man’s cowardly impertinence [to CLARENCE] as of a woman’s jealous tyranny. They have made what was my Arabella’s home miserable by their oppression and their quarrels. Julia! my wife’s friend, my children’s friend! be mine, and make me happy! Don’t leave me, Julia! say you won’t–say you won’t–dearest–dearest girl!

MISS P.–I won’t–leave–you.

GEORGE [without].–Oh, I say! Arabella, look here: here’s papa a-kissing Miss Prior!

LADY K.–Horace–Clarence my son! Shade of my Arabella! can you behold this horrible scene, and not shudder in heaven! Bulkeley! Clarence! go for a doctor–go to Doctor Straitwaist at the Asylum–Horace Milliken, who has married the descendant of the Kickleburys of the Conqueror, marry a dancing-girl off the stage! Horace Milliken! do you wish to see me die in convulsions at your feet? I writhe there, I grovel there. Look! look at me on my knees! your own mother-in-law! drive away this fiend!

MILLIKEN.–Hem! I ought to thank you, Lady Kicklebury, for it is you that have given her to me.

LADY K.–He won’t listen! he turns away and kisses her horrible hand. This will never do: help me up, Clarence, I must go and fetch his mother. Ah, ah! there she is, there she is! [Lady K. rushes out, as the top of a barouche, with Mr. and Mrs. BONNINGTON and Coachman, is seen over the gate.]

MRS. B.–What is this I hear, my son, my son? You are going to marry a–a stage-dancer? you are driving me mad, Horace!

MILLIKEN.–Give me my second chance, mother, to be happy. You have had yourself two chances.

MRS. B.–Speak to him, Mr. Bonnington. [BONNINGTON makes dumb show.]

LADY K.–Implore him, Mr. Bonnington.

MRS. B.–Pray, pray for him, Mr. Bonnington, my love–my lost, abandoned boy!

LADY K.–Oh, my poor dear Mrs. Bonnington!

MRS. B.–Oh, my poor dear Lady Kicklebury. [They embrace each other.]