Get into some attachment, and difficulties, and correspondences; for, next to receiving a love-letter one's self, there is nothing so delightful as peeping into the love-letters of one's neighbours.
MARY.
Ha, ha, ha! You might be easily satisfied; for I have only to give Mr. Smitchenstault a little encouragement, and we shall have love-letters enough to peep into.
MRS. CHARVILLE.
Somebody is coming. (Charvilleretires softly without being perceived, andSmitchenstault, by the opposite door, enters, with heavy creaking steps.)
MARY.
See! the old proverb verified; speak of him, and he appears. Mr. Smitchenstault, you come in good time to give us the benefit of your exquisite sensibility. My sister there is painting a rose, and two buds which seem newly separated from it; and she must not put dew-drops upon each, you know, because that would be formal: now, whether should the rose appear to be weeping for the buds, or the buds for the rose?—the parental or the filial affections prevail?
