his affections too!--The time _was_, sister--

_Mrs. Bev._ And _is_. I have no fear of his affections. Would I knew
that he were safe!

_Char._ From ruin and his companions. But that's impossible. His
poor little boy too! What must become of Him?

_Mrs. Bev._ Why, want shall teach him industry. From his father's
mistakes he shall learn prudence, and from his mother's resignation,
patience. Poverty has no such terrors in it as you imagine. There's
no condition of life, sickness and pain excepted, where happiness is
excluded. The needy peasant, who rises early to his labour, enjoys
more welcome rest at night for't. His bread is sweeter to him; his
home happier; his family dearer; his enjoyments surer. The sun that
rouses him in the morning, sets in the evening to release him. All
situations have their comforts, if sweet contentment dwell in the
heart. But my poor Beverley has none. The thought of having ruined
those he loves, is misery for ever to him. Would I could ease his
mind of That!

_Char._ If He alone were ruined, 'twere just he should be punished.
He is my brother, 'tis true; but when I think of what he has done;
of the fortune You brought him; of his own large estate too,
squandered away upon this vilest of passions, and among the vilest
of wretches! O! I have no patience! My own little fortune is
untouched, he says: would I were sure on't!

_Mrs. Bev._ And so you may; 'twould be a sin to doubt it.