SIR JOHN. But a valuable reputation. When a man is called stingy, it is as much as calling him rich; and when a man's called rich, why he's a man universally respected. On the strength of my respectability I wheedled a constituency, changed my politics, resigned my seat to a minister, who, to a man of such stake in the country, could offer nothing less in return than a patent office of 20007. a-year. That's the way to succeed in life. Humbug, my dear!-all humbug, upon my soul. I must say that you GEORGINA. SIR JOHN. Know the world, to be sure. Now, for your fortune,-as I spend more than my income, I can have nothing to leave you; yet, even without counting your uncle, you have always passed for an heiress on the credit of your expectations from the savings of "Stingy Jack." The same with your education. I never grudged anything to make a show -never stuffed your head with histories and homilies; but you draw, you sing, you dance, you walk well into a room; and that's the way young ladies are educated nowadays, in order to become a pride to their parents and a blessing to their husband-that is, when they have caught him. Apropos of a husband: you know we thought of Sir Frederick Blount. GEORGINA. Ah, papa, he is charming. SIR JOHN. He was so, my dear, before we knew your poor uncle was dead; but an heiress such as you will be should look out for a duke. Where the deuce is Evelyn this morning? GEORGINA. I've not seen him, papa. What a strange character he is! -so sarcastic; and yet he can be agreeable. SIR JOHN. A humorist-a cynic! one never knows how to take him. My private secretary, a poor cousin,-has not got a shilling, and yet, hang me if he does not keep us all at a sort of a distance. GEORGINA. But why do you take him to live with us, papa, since there's no good to be got by it? SIR JOHN. There you are wrong; he has a great deal of talent: prepares my speeches, writes my pamphlets, looks up my calculations. My Report on the last Commission has got me a great deal of fame, and has put me at the head of the new one. Besides, he is our cousin-he has no salary: kindness to a poor relation always tells well in the world and Benevolence is a useful virtue,-particularly when you can have it for nothing! With our other cousin, Clara, it was different her father thought fit to leave me her guardian, though she had not a penny-a mere useless incumbrance; so, you see, I got my half-sister, Lady Franklin, to take her off my hands. GEORGINA. How much longer is Lady Franklin's visit to be? SIR JOHN. I don't know, my dear; the longer the better,-for her nusband left her a good deal of money at her own disposal. Ah, here she comes! SCENE II. LADY FRANKLIN, CLARA, SIR JOHN, GEORGINA. SIR JOHN. My dear sister, we were just loud in your praises. But how's this?-not in mourning? LADY FRANKLIN. Why should I go into mourning for a man I never saw? SIR JOHN. Still there may be a legacy. LADY FRANKLIN. Then there'll be less cause for affliction! Ha! ha! my dear Sir John, I'm one of those who think feelings a kind of property, and never take credit for them upon false pre tences. SIR JOHN (aside). Very silly woman! But, Clara, I see you are more attentive to the proper decorum; yet you are very, very, VERY distantly connected with the deceased-a third cousin, I think? CLARA. Mr. Mordaunt once assisted my father, and these poor robes are all the gratitude I can show him. SIR JOHN. Gratitude! humph! I am afraid the minx has got expectations. LADY FRANKLIN. So, Mr. Graves is the executor-the will is addressed to him? The same Mr. Graves who is always in black-always lamenting his ill fortune and his sainted Maria, who led him the life of a dog? SIR JOHN. The very same. His liveries are black-his carriage is black-he always rides a black galloway-and, faith, if he ever marry again, I think he will show his respect to the sainted Maria by marrying a black woman. LADY FRANKLIN. Ha! ha! we shall see.-(Aside) Poor Graves, I always liked him he made an excellent husband. Enter EVELYN (seats himself, and takes up a book, unobserved). SIR JOHN. What a crowd of relations this will brings to light! Mr. Stout, the Political Economist-Lord Glossmore LADY FRANKLIN. Whose grandfather kept a pawnbroker's shop, and who, accordingly, entertains the profoundest contempt for every thing popular, parvenu, and plebeian. Sir Frederick Blount SIR JOHN. LADY FRANKLIN. Sir Fwedewick Blount, who objects to the letter R as being too wough, and therefore dwops its acquaintance: one of the new class of prudent young gentlemen, who, not having spirits and constitution for the hearty excesses of their predecessors, entrench themselves in the dignity of a lady-like languor. A man of fashion in the last century was riotous and thoughtless-in this he is tranquil and egotistical. He never does anything that is silly, or says anything that is wise. I beg your pardon, my dear; I believe Sir Frederick is an admirer of yours, provided, on reflection, he does not see “what harm it could do him" to fall in love with your beauty and expectations. Then, too, our poor cousin the scholar,--Oh, Mr. Evelyn, there you are! SIR JOHN. Evelyn-the very person I wanted: where have you been all day? Have you seen to those papers?-have you written my epitaph on poor Mordaunt ?-Latin, you know? -have you reported my speech at Exeter Hall?-have you looked out the debates on the Customs?-and, oh, have you mended up all the old pens in the study? GEORGINA. And have you brought me the black floss silk?-have you been to Storr's for my ring?-and, as we cannot go out on this melancholy occasion, did you call at Hookham's for the last HB. and the Comic Annual? LADY FRANKLIN. And did you see what was really the matter with my bay horse?-did you get me the Opera-box?-did you buy my little Charley his peg-top? EVELYN (always reading). Certainly, Paley is right upon that point; for, put the syllogism thus(looking up) Ma'am-Sir-Miss Vesey -you want something of me?-Paley observes, that to assist even the undeserving tends to the better regulation of our charitable feelings-No apologies—I am quite at your service. SIR JOHN. Now he's in one of his humours! LADY FRANKLIN. You allow him strange liberties, Sir John. EVELYN. You will be the less surprised at that, madam, when I inform you that Sir John allows me nothing else.-I am now about to draw on his benevolence. LADY FRANKLIN. I beg your pardon, sir, and like your spirit. Sir John, I'm in the way, I see; for I know your benevolence is so delicate that you never allow any one detect it! EVELYN. [Walks aside. I could not do your commissions to-day-I have been to visit a poor woman, who was my nurse and my mother's last friend. She is very poor, very-sick-dying-and she owes six months' rent! SIR JOHN. You know I should be most happy to do anything for yourself. But the nurse-(Aside. Some people's nurses are always ill!)-there are so many impostors about!--We'll talk of it to-morrow. This most mournful occasion takes up all my attention. (Looking at his watch) Bless me! so late! I've letters to write, and-none of the pens are mended! [Exit. GEORGINA (taking out her purse). I think I will give it to him-And yet, if I don't get the fortune after all!-Papa allows me so little!- then I must have those earrings (puts up the purse). Mr. Evelyn, what is the address of your nurse? EVELYN (writes and gives it). She has a good heart with all her foibles! Ah! Miss Vesey, if that poor woman had not closed the eyes of my lost mother, Alfred Evelyn would not have been this beggar to your father. [CLARA looks over the address. GEORGINA. I will certainly attend to it—(aside) if I get the fortune. SIR JOHN (calling without). Georgy, I say! Yes, papa. GEORGINA. [Exit. [EVELYN has seated himself again at the table (to the right), and leans his face on his hands. CLARA. His noble spirit bowed to this!-Ah, at least here I may give him comfort-(sits down to write). But he will recognise my hand. LADY FRANKLIN. What bill are you paying, Clara?-putting up a banknote? CLARA. Hush!-O Lady Franklin, you are the kindest of human beings. This is for a poor person-I would not have her know whence it came, or she would refuse it. Would you? -No, he knows her handwriting also! LADY FRANKLIN. Will I-what?-give the money myself!-with pleasure! Poor Clara-Why this covers all your savings-and I am so rich! CLARA. Nay, I would wish to do all myself!-it is a pride-a duty —it is a joy; and I have so few joys! But, hush!--this way. [They retire into the inner room and converse in dumb show. EVELYN. And thus must I grind out my life for ever!—I am ambitious, and Poverty drags me down-I have learning, and Poverty makes me the drudge of fools!-I love, and Poverty stands like a spectre before the altar! But no, no-if, as |