MARLOW. Cannot guess.

HASTINGS. Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss Neville.
Give me leave to introduce Miss Constance Neville to your
acquaintance. Happening to dine in the neighbourhood, they called on
their return to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle has just stept
into the next room, and will be back in an instant. Wasn't it lucky?
eh!

MARLOW. (Aside.) I have been mortified enough of all conscience, and
here comes something to complete my embarrassment.

HASTINGS. Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in the world?

MARLOW. Oh! yes. Very fortunate--a most joyful encounter--But our
dresses, George, you know are in disorder--What if we should postpone
the happiness till to-morrow?--To-morrow at her own house--It will be
every bit as convenient--and rather more respectful--To-morrow let it
be. [Offering to go.]

MISS NEVILLE. By no means, sir. Your ceremony will displease her.
The disorder of your dress will show the ardour of your impatience.
Besides, she knows you are in the house, and will permit you to see
her.

MARLOW. O! the devil! how shall I support it? Hem! hem! Hastings,
you must not go. You are to assist me, you know. I shall be
confoundedly ridiculous. Yet, hang it! I'll take courage. Hem!

HASTINGS. Pshaw, man! it's but the first plunge, and all's over.