r._ I lost my appetite in your family this morning, Sir
Simon; and have no relish for any thing you can have the goodness to
offer me.

_Shuff._ Don't press us, baronet;--that's quite out, in the New
School.

_Sir Simon._ Oh, damn the New School!--who will explain all this
mystery?

_Frank._ Mr. Shuffleton shall explain it, sir; and other mysteries
too.

_Shuff._ My dear Frank, I have something to say to you. But here
comes my papa; I've been talking to him, Sir Simon, and he'll talk
to you. He does very well to explain, for the benefit of a country
gentleman.

_Enter LORD FITZ BALAAM._

_Sir Simon._ My Lord, it is painful to be referred to you, when so
much is to be said. What is it all?

_Lord Fitz._ You are disappointed, Sir Simon, and I am ruin'd.

_Sir Simon._ But, my lord---- [_They go up the Stage._

[_LADY CAROLINE throws herself carelessly into a
Chair. SHUFFLETON advances to FRANK._

_Shuff._ My dear Frank, I----I have had a devilish deal of trouble
in getting this business off your hands. But you see, I have done my
best for you.

_Frank._ For yourself, you mean.

_Shuff._ Come, damn it, my good fellow, don't be ungrateful to a
friend.

_Frank._ Take back this letter of recommendation, you wrote for
Mary, as a friend. When you assume that name with me, Mr.
Shuffleton, for myself I laugh; for you I blush; but for sacred
friendship's profanation I grieve. [_Turns from him._

_Shuff._ That all happens from living so much out of town.

_Enter PEREGRINE, JOB THORNBERRY, and MARY._

_Pereg._ Now, Sir Simon, as accident seems to have thwarted a
design, which probity could never applaud, you may, perhaps, be
inclined to do justice here.

_Job._ Justice is all I come for--damn their favours! Cheer up,
Mary!

_Sir Simon._ [_To PEREG._] I was in hopes I had got rid of you. You
are an orator from the sea-shore; but you must put more pebbles in
your mouth before you harangue me into a tea-kettle connexion.

_Shuff._ That's my friend at the Red Cow. He is the new-old _cher
ami_ to honest tea-kettle's daughter.

_Frank._ Your insinuation is false, sir.

_Shuff._ False! [_Stepping forward._

_Lady Car._ Hush! don't quarrel;--we are only married to-day.

_Shuff._ That's true; I won't do any thing to make you unhappy for
these three weeks.

_Pereg._ Sir Simon Rochdale, if my orat