children's friend! be mine, and make me happy! Don't leave me, Julia!
say you won't--say you won't--dearest--dearest girl!

MISS P.--I won't--leave--you.

GEORGE [without].--Oh, I say! Arabella, look here: here's papa a-kissing
Miss Prior!

LADY K.--Horace--Clarence my son! Shade of my Arabella! can you behold
this horrible scene, and not shudder in heaven! Bulkeley! Clarence! go
for a doctor--go to Doctor Straitwaist at the Asylum--Horace Milliken,
who has married the descendant of the Kickleburys of the Conqueror,
marry a dancing-girl off the stage! Horace Milliken! do you wish to
see me die in convulsions at your feet? I writhe there, I grovel there.
Look! look at me on my knees! your own mother-in-law! drive away this
fiend!

MILLIKEN.--Hem! I ought to thank you, Lady Kicklebury, for it is you
that have given her to me.

LADY K.--He won't listen! he turns away and kisses her horrible hand.
This will never do: help me up, Clarence, I must go and fetch his
mother. Ah, ah! there she is, there she is! [Lady K. rushes out, as the
top of a barouche, with Mr. and Mrs. BONNINGTON and Coachman, is seen
over the gate.]

MRS. B.--What is this I hear, my son, my son? You are going to marry
a--a stage-dancer? you are driving me mad, Horace!

MILLIKEN.--Give me my second chance, mother, to be happy. You have had