Lady S. Don't destroy the blank sides of your letters, Mr. Seabright, they will do to write notes upon.
Sea. O confound your little minute economy, Lady Sarah! it comes across me every now and then like the creeping of a spider: it makes me mad.
Lady S. (putting aside her papers, much offended.) I think I need scarcely give myself the trouble of writing any more to-day. (seeing the letter on her table.) Ha! a letter from my brother to me! (opening it.) and a later date I fancy than that which you have received. (reads it with her countenance brightening up.)
Sea. (looking eagerly at her.) What's in it? (she is silent.) What's in it? for God's sake tell me!
Lady S. (going up to him with a smiling face, and an affected formal courtesy.) I have the honour to congratulate Sir Anthony Seabright.
Sea. Is it really so? Is it really so? Let me see, let me see. (snatches the letter from her and reads it.) O it is so in very truth!—Give me your hand, my dear Lady Sarah! and give me a kiss too. (kisses her on one cheek, and she graciously turns to him the other.) O one will do very well.—Where are all the children? let every soul in the house come about me!—No, no, no! let me be decent; let me be moderate.
(Enter Plausible.)
Sea. (going up joyfully to him) How do you do? how do you do, my very good friend?
