Har. I have something of consequence-If you will give me leave, sir, I will wait till she returns.

Will You would not see her, if you did, madam. She has given positive orders not to be interrupted with any company to-day.

Har. Sure, sir, if you was to let her know, that I had particular business

Will. I should not dare to trouble her, indeed, madam. Har. How unfortunate this is! What can I do?Pray, sir, can I see Mr. Oakly, then?

Will. Yes, madam: I'll acquaint my master, if you please.

Har. Pray do, sir.

Will. Will you favour me with your name, madam? Har. Be pleased, sir, to let him know, that a lady desires to speak with him.

Will. I shall, madam.

[Exit WILLIAM.

Har. I wish I could have seen Mrs. Oakly. What an unhappy situation am I reduced to !—I must now, however, solicit Mr. Oakly's protection; a circumstance (all things considered) rather disagreeable to a delicate mind, and which nothing, but the absolute necessity of it, could excuse.

Enter OAKLY.

Qak. [At entering.] Where is this lady?—[Seeing her.] Bless me, Miss Russet, is it you?-Was ever any thing so unlucky? [Aside.] Is it possible, madam, that I see you here?

Har. It is too true, sir; and the occasion, on which I am now to trouble you, is so much in need of an apology, that

Oak. Pray make none, madam.-If my wife should return before I get her out of the house again!

[Aside. Har. I dare say, sir, you are not quite a stranger to the attachment your nephew has professed to me.

Oak. I am not, madam.—I hope Charles has not been guilty of any baseness towards you. If he has, I'll never see his face again.

Har. I have no cause to accuse him.-But

Oak. But what, madam? Pray be quick?--The very person in the world I would not have seen! [Aside. Har. You seem uneasy, sir!

Oak. No, nothing at all-Pray go on, madam.

Har. I am at present, sir, through a concurrence of strange accidents, in a very unfortunate situation, and do not know what will become of me without your assistance.

Oak. I'll do every thing in my power to serve you. I know of your leaving your father, by a letter we have had from him. Pray let me know the rest of your story. Har. My story, sir, is When I left my short. very father's, I came immediately to London, and took refuge with a relation; where, instead of meeting with the protection I expected, I was alarmed with the most infamous designs upon my honour. It is not an hour ago since your nephew rescued me from the attempts of a villain. I tremble to think, that I left him actually engaged in a duel.

Oak. He is very safe. He has just sent home the chariot from the St. Albans tavern, where he dines today.- -But what are your commands for me, madam?

Har. The favour, sir, I would now request of you is, that you would suffer me to remain, for a few days, in your house.

bak. Madam!

Har. And that, in the meantime, you will use your utmost endeavours to reconcile me to my father, without his forcing me into a marriage with Sir Harry Beagle. Oak. This is the most perplexing situation!--Why did not Charles take care to bestow you properly?

Har. It is most probable, sir, that I should not have consented to such a measure myself. The world is but

too apt to censure, even without a cause: and if you are so kind as to admit me into your house, I must desire not to consider Mr. Oakly in any other light than as your nephew.

Cak. What an unlucky circumstance!--Upon my soul, madam, I would do any thing to serve you—but being in my house, creates a difficulty that

Har. I hope, sir, you do not doubt the truth of what I have told you?

Oak. I religiously believe every tittle of it, madam, but I have particular family considerations, that

Har. Sure, sir, you cannot suspect me to be base enough to form any connections in your family contrary to your inclinations, while I am living in your house!

Oak. Such connections, madam, would do me and all my family great honour. I never dreamt of any scruples on that account.-What can I do?-Let me see-let me see-suppose

[Pausing.

Enter MRS. OAKLY behind, in a capuchin, tippet, &c.

Mrs. Oak. I am sure I heard the voice of a woman, conversing with my husband-Ha! [Seeing HARBIET.] It is so, indeed! Let me contain myself—I'll listen.

Har. I see, sir, you are not inclined to serve me— good heaven! what am I reserved to?-Why, why did I leave my father's house, to expose myself to greater distresses? [Ready to weep.

Oak. I would do any thing for your sake: indeed I would. So pray be comforted, and I'll think of some proper place to bestow you in.

Mrs. Oak. So! so!

Har. What place can be so proper as your own

house?

Mrs. Oak. My dear madam!--Mighty well!Oak. Hush!-hark!--what noise--no-nothing. But I'll be plain with you, madam, we may be interrupted.--The family considerations I hinted at, is nothing else than my wife. She is a little unhappy in her temper, madam ;—and if you were to be admitted into the house, I don't know what would be the consequence.

Mrs. Oak. Very fine!

Har. My behaviour, sir!

Oak. My dear life, it would be impossible for you to behave in such a manner, as not to give her suspicion. Har. But if your nephew, sir, took every thing upon himself

Oak. Still that would not do, madam!--Why, this very morning, when the letter came from your father, though I positively denied any knowledge of it, and Charles owned it, yet it was almost impossible to pacify her.

Har. What shall I do?-What will become of me?. Oak. Why, lookye, my dear madam, since my wife is so strong an objection, it is absolutely impossible for me to take you into the house. Nay, if I had not known she was gone out, just before you came, I should be uneasy at your being here, even now. So we must manage as well as we can.—I'll take a private lodging for you a little way off, unknown to Charles, or my wife, or any body; and if Mrs. Oakly should discover it at last, why the whole matter will light upon Charles, you know.

Mrs. Oak. Upon Charles !

Har. How unhappy is my situation! [Weeping.] I am ruined for ever.

Oak. Ruined! Not at all. Such a thing as this has happened to many a young lady before you, and all has been well again-Keep up your spirits! I'll contrive, if I possibly can, to visit you every day.

Mrs. Oak. [Advancing.] Will you so? O, Mr. Oakly! have I discovered you at last? I'll visit you, indeed! And you, my dear madam, I'll—

Har. Madam, I don't understand

Mrs. Oak. I understand the whole affair, and have understood it for some time past.-You shall have a private lodging, miss!It is the fittest place for you, I believe.- -How dare you look me in the face?

Oak. For Heaven's sake, my love, don't be so violent. -You are quite wrong in this affair-you don't know who you are a-talking to. This lady is a person of fashion.

Mrs. Oak. Fine fashion, indeed! to seduce other women's husbands!

Har. Dear madam; how can you imagine

Oak. I tell you, my dear, this is the young lady that Charles

Mrs. Oak. Mighty well! but that won't do, sir!— Did not I hear you lay the whole intrigue together? Did not I hear your fine plot of throwing all the blame upon Charles?

Oak. Nay, be cool a moment.

-You must know,

my dear, that the letter which came this morning re

lated to this lady-

Mrs. Oak, I know it.

Oak. And since that, it seems, Charles has been so fortunate as to

Mrs. Oak. O, you deceitful man!--That trick is too stale to pass again with me.—— -It is plain now what you meant by your proposing to take her into the house this morning.But the gentlewoman could introduce herself, I see.

Oak. Fie! fie! my dear, she came on purpose to inquire for you.

Mrs. Oak. For me!better and better! ———— Did not she watch her opportunity, and come to you just as I went out? But I am obliged to you for your visit,