Fag. Good-bye, Thomas. I have an appointment in Gyde’s porch this evening at eight; meet me there, and we’ll make a little party.

[Exeunt severally.

Scene II.—A Dressing-room in Mrs. Malaprop’s Lodgings.

Lydia sitting on a sofa, with a book in her hand. Lucy, as just returned from a message.

Lucy. Indeed, ma’am, I traversed half the town in search of it! I don’t believe there’s a circulating library in Bath I han’t been at.

Lyd. And could not you get The Reward of Constancy?

Lucy. No, indeed, ma’am.

Lyd. Nor The Fatal Connexion?

Lucy. No, indeed, ma’am.

Lyd. Nor The Mistakes of the Heart?

Lucy. Ma’am, as ill luck would have it, Mr. Bull said Miss Sukey Saunter had just fetched it away.

Lyd. Heigh-ho! Did you inquire for The Delicate Distress?

Lucy. Or, The Memoirs of Lady Woodford? Yes, indeed, ma’am. I asked everywhere for it; and I might have brought it from Mr. Frederick’s, but Lady Slattern Lounger, who had just sent it home, had so soiled and dog’s-eared it, it wa’n’t fit for a Christian to read.

Lyd. Heigh-ho! Yes, I always know when Lady Slattern has been before me. She has a most observing thumb; and, I believe, cherishes her nails for the convenience of making marginal notes.— Well, child, what have you brought me?

Lucy. Oh! here, ma’am.—[Taking books from under her cloak and from her pockets.] This is The Gordian Knot,—and this Peregrine Pickle. Here are The Tears of Sensibility, and Humphrey Clinker. This is The Memoirs of a Lady of Quality, written by Herself, and here the second volume of The Sentimental Journey.

Lyd Heigh-ho!—What are those books by the glass?

Lucy. The great one is only The Whole Duty of Man, where I press a few blonds, ma’am.

Lyd. Very well—give me the sal volatile.

Lucy. Is it in a blue cover, ma’am?

Lyd. My smelling-bottle, you simpleton!

Lucy. Oh, the drops—here, ma’am.

Lyd. Hold!—here’s some one coming—quick! see who it is.— [Exit Lucy.] Surely I heard my cousin Julia’s voice.

Re-enter Lucy.

Lucy. Lud! ma’am, here is Miss Melville.