s.

_Lady Teaz._ And am I to blame, Sir Peter, because flowers are dear in
cold weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with me.
For my part, I'm sure I wish it was spring all the year round, and that
roses grew under our feet.

_Sir Pet._ Oons! madam--if you had been born to this, I shouldn't wonder
at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was when I
married you.

_Lady Teaz._ No, no, I don't; 'twas a very disagreeable one, or I should
never have married you.

_Sir Pet._ Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler
style--the daughter of a plain country squire. Recollect, Lady Teazle,
when I saw you first sitting at your tambour, in a pretty figured linen
gown, with a bunch of keys at your side, your hair combed smooth over a
roll, and your apartment hung round with fruits in worsted, of your own
working.

_Lady Teaz._ Oh, yes! I remember it very well, and a curious life I led.
My daily occupation--to inspect the dairy, superintend the poultry, make
extracts from the family receipt-book, and comb my aunt Deborah's
lap-dog.

_Sir Pet._ Yes, yes, ma'am, 'twas so indeed.

_Lady Teaz._ And then you know my evening amusements! To draw patterns
for ruffles, which I had not materials to make up; to play Pope Joan
with the curate; to read a sermon to my aunt; or to be stuck down to an
old spinet to strum my father to sleep after a fox-chase.

_Sir Pet._ I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these were
the recreations I took you from; but now you must have your
coach--_vis-a-vis_--and three powdered footmen before your chair; and,
in the summer, a pair of white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens.
No recollection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double, behind
the butler, on a docked coach-horse.

_Lady Teaz._ No--I vow I never did that: I deny the butler and the
coach-horse.

_Sir Pet._ This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done for
you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank--in short,
I have made you my wife.

_Lady Teaz._ Well, then, and there is but one thing more you can make me
to add to the obligation, that is----

_Sir Pet._ My widow, I suppose?

_Lady Teaz._ Hem! hem!

_Sir Pet._ I thank you, madam--but don't flatter yourself; for, though
your ill conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never break my
heart, I promise you: however, I am equally obliged to you for the hint.

_Lady Teaz._ Then why will