pleased with that of any other person, if it be not bristled over with contrivances like a hedgehog. And I must be allowed to say, Mr. Walter Baurchel, that he who racks his brains for your service, works for a thankless master.
Walt. He works for an honest one, then.
Dart. Away with the honesty that cannot afford a few civil words to a friend, who is doing his best to oblige you! As much duplicity as this amounts to, would not much contaminate your virtue.
Walt. Well, well, I am wrong, perhaps, but thou art as testy as myself.
Dart. Because I won't bear your untoward humour. Some people find every body testy who approaches them, and marvel at their own bad luck.—But no more of this: let us think of our friend. Does the Baron believe what you told him of Hovelberg's appointment with the Countess?
Walt. He makes a show of not believing it, but I think he has his own suspicions at bottom; for his valet tells me, he has sent to desire Hovelberg to speak with him as soon as he arrives.
Dart. Here comes De Bertrand; I hear his steps.
Walt. Is he returned to the castle?
Dart. Yes; I forgot to tell you so, you were in such a hurry for your plot.
Walt. Silly fellow! he cannot stay away from his capricious mistress, though the first glance of her eye sinks him to a poltron at once.
