Sea. Say no more of this at present, Sophia; and, perhaps, by-and-bye, he may return to us again as your own servant.
Soph. Ha! (surprised.)
Sea. Yes, my sweet girl; I will be very liberal to you and to all my children: I will make a good amends to you for all that is past, (turning to the boy.) And you, my good boy, I must think of you by-and-bye. Thou art become a stout boy, George: let me look at thy face. (lifting up his hair from his forehead.) Ay, it is a comely face enough: it will make a very good countenance for an admiral, or a general, or even for the woolsack, if thine inclinations should lead thee that way. Let me feel thy weight too, young rogue. (taking him up in his arms.) Ah! would now that I could but know the rank and eminence of the future man I hold in these arms!
Soph. My dear Sir, you are so good to us, and so good humoured this morning, I could wager those letters by the post have brought you pleasant news.
Sea. Letters by the post! I have received none.
Soph. Then you have not read them yet. You slept so much longer than usual this morning, that you were not up when they came, and they were put on the table in the next room. (pointing off the stage.)
Sea. Let me see them, then; if they bring me any good news they are welcome. (Exit with a light active step.)
