_Handy, jun._ Nay, sir, by your own confession I _am_ where I ought to
be.
_Sir Abel._ No! you ought to be at the Castle--Sir Philip is there, and
Miss Blandford is there, and Lady Handy is there, and therefore--
_Handy, jun._ You are _not_ there. In one word, I shall not marry Miss
Blandford.
_Sir Abel._ Indeed! who told you so?
_Handy, jun._ One who never lies--and, therefore, one I am determined to
make a friend of--my conscience.
_Sir Abel._ But zounds! sir, what excuse have you?
_Handy, jun._ [_Taking_ SUSAN'S _hand._] A very fair one, sir--is not
she?
_Sir Abel._ Why, yes, sir, I can't deny it--but, 'sdeath, sir, this
overturns my best plan!
_Handy, jun._ No, sir; for a parent's best plan is his son's happiness,
and that it will establish. Come, give us your consent. Consider how we
admire all your wonderful inventions.
_Sir Abel._ No, not my plough, Bob--but 'tis a devilish clever plough.
_Handy, jun._ I dare say it is. Come, sir, consent, and perhaps, in our
turn, we may invent something that may please you.
_Sir Abel._ He! he! he! well--but hold--what's the use of my consent
without my wife's--bless you! I dare no more approve, without--
_Enter_ GERALD.
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