eat respect for the memory of his
deceased friend, is ever telling her how he shall renew his years in
their union, and repeating the dying injunctions of old Van Dumpling.

CHARLOTTE. A mighty pretty story! And so you would make me believe that
the sensible Maria would give up Dumpling Manor, and the
all-accomplished Dimple as a husband, for the absurd, ridiculous reason,
forsooth, because she despises and abhors him. Just as if a lady could
not be privileged to spend a man's fortune, ride in his carriage, be
called after his name, and call him her _nown dear lovee_ when she wants
money, without loving and respecting the great he-creature. Oh! my dear
girl, you are a monstrous prude.

LETITIA. I don't say what I would do; I only intimate how I suppose she
wishes to act.

CHARLOTTE. No, no, no! A fig for sentiment. If she breaks, or wishes to
break, with Mr. Dimple, depend upon it, she has some other man in her
eye. A woman rarely discards one lover until she is sure of another.
Letitia little thinks what a clue I have to Dimple's conduct. The
generous man submits to render himself disgusting to Maria, in order
that she may leave him at liberty to address me. I must change the
subject. [_Aside, and rings a bell._

_Enter SERVANT._

Frank, order the horses to.----Talking of marriage, did you hear that
Sally Bloomsbury is going to be married next week to Mr. Indigo, the
rich Carolinian?

LETITIA. Sally Bloomsbury married!--why, she is not yet in her teens.

CHARLOTTE. I do not know how that is, but you may depend upon it, 'tis a
done affair. I have it from the best authority. There is my aunt
Wyerly's Hannah (you know Hannah; though a black, she is a wench that
was never caught in a lie in her life); now, Hannah has a brother who
courts Sarah, Mrs. Catgut the milliner's girl, and she told Hannah's
brother, and Hannah, who, as I said before, is a girl of undoubted
veracity, told it directly to me, that Mrs. Catgut was making a new cap
for Miss Bloomsbury, which, as it was very dressy, it is very probable
is designed for a wedding cap. Now, as she is to be married, who can it
be to, but to Mr. Indigo? Why, there is no other gentleman that visits
at her papa's.

LETITIA. Say not a word more, Charlotte. Your intelligence is so direct
and well grounded, it is almost a pity that it is not a piece of
scandal.

CHARLOTTE. Oh! I am the pink of prudence. Though I cannot charge myself
wi