Sea. Yes, yes; but what do you want?
(Enter Sophia, timidly.)
Soph. I only come, my dear Sir, to see how you do after your journey. But you don't look well, papa: you don't look happy: has any thing distress'd you?
Sea. No, my good girl.
Soph. (kissing his hand.) I thank you, papa, for calling me your good girl: I was your good girl.
Sea. And are so still, my dear Sophia; but you must sometimes excuse me; I am not very happy.
Soph. Ah papa! I know what makes you unhappy.
Sea. (shaking his head.) Thou dost not! thou dost not!
Soph. Ah but I do! and nobody told it me neither—I can just see it my ownself. You are giving yourself a great deal of trouble, and courting very proud and very disagreeable people, for what you very probably won't get; and you are grieved to think that Lady Sarah does not treat us so kindly as she might do. But don't be unhappy: don't court those proud people any more: you have enough to live upon as you used to do; and Lady Sarah will be kinder to us by-and-bye. I know she will; for she loves little Tony already; and if she should not we will never complain.
Sea. (kissing her.) My sweet child! thou deservest—O thou deservest more than I can ever do for thee!
