With. No, no, Harwood, not quite so perfect. I can prove her still to be an arrant cheat; for she pretended to be careless of you when she thought of you all the day long, and she pretended to be poor with an hundred thousand pounds, independant of any one, in her possession. She is Miss Withrington the heiress, and this lady, (pointing to Mariane,) has only been her representative, for a time, for reasons which I shall explain to you by-and-by. (Harwood lets go Agnes's hand, and steps hack some paces with a certain gravity and distance in his air.)
With. What is the matter now, Hrwood, does this cast a damp upon you?
Roys. It is a weighty distress, truly. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Col. By heaven! this is good.
Ag. (Going up to Harwood, and holding out her hand.) Do not look so distantly upon me, Harwood. You was willing to marry me as a poor woman; if there is any thing in my fortune which offends you, I scatter it to the winds.
Har. My admirable girl, it is astonishment, it is something I cannot express, which overcomes, I had almost said distresses me at present. (Presenting her to the Colonel.) Colonel Hardy, this is the woman I have raved about, this is the woman I have boasted of, this is my Agnes. And this, Miss Withrington, is Colonel Hardy, my own, and my father's friend.
Ag. (Holding out her hand to the Colonel.) He shall be mine too. Every friend of your's shall be
