ask yourself seriously, as to the state of your affections, remember, your happiness for life will depend upon the choice you make. Augusta What would you advise, mamma? You know I am always advised by you. Mrs. Mountchessington Dear, obedient child. De Boots has excellent expectations, but then they are only expectations after all. This American is rich, and on the whole I think a well regulated affection ought to incline to Asa Trenchard. Augusta Very well, mamma. Mrs. Mountchessington At the same time, you must be cautious, or in grasping at Asa Trenchard’s solid good qualities, you may miss them, and De Boots expectations into the bargain. Augusta Oh, I will take care not to give up my hold on poor De Boots ’till I am quite sure of the American. Mrs. Mountchessington That’s my own girl. Enter Asa Trenchard L. Ah, Mr. Trenchard, we were just talking of your archery powers. Asa Trenchard Wal, I guess shooting with bows and arrows is just about like most things in life, all you’ve got to do is keep the sun out of your eyes, look straight⁠—pull strong⁠—calculate the distance, and you’re sure to hit the mark in most things as well as shooting. Augusta But not in England, Mr. Trenchard. There are disinterested hearts that only ask an opportunity of showing how they despise that gold, which others set such store by. Asa Trenchard Wal, I suppose there are, Miss Gusty. Augusta All I crave is affection. Asa Trenchard Crosses to C. Do you, now? I wish I could make sure of that, for I’ve been cruelly disappointed in that particular. Mrs. Mountchessington Yes, but we are old friends, Mr. Trenchard, and you needn’t be afraid of us. Asa Trenchard Oh, I ain’t afraid of you⁠—both on you together. Mrs. Mountchessington People sometimes look a great way off, for that which is near at hand. Glancing at Augusta and Asa Trenchard alternatively. Asa Trenchard You don’t mean, Miss Gusta. Augusta casts sheeps eyes at him. Now, don’t look at me in that way. I can’t stand it, if you do, I’ll bust. Mrs. Mountchessington Oh, if you only knew how refreshing this ingenuousness of yours is to an old woman of the world like me. Asa Trenchard Be you an old woman of the world? Mrs. Mountchessington Yes, sir. Augusta Oh yes. Asa Trenchard Well I don’t doubt it in the least. Aside. This gal and the old woman are trying to get me on a string. Aloud. Wal, then, if a rough spun fellow like me was to come forward as a suitor for you daughter’s hand, you wouldn’t treat me as some folks do, when they find out I wasn’t heir to the fortune. Mrs. Mountchessington Not heir to the fortune, Mr. Trenchard? Asa Trenchard Oh, no. Augusta What, no fortune? Asa Trenchard Nary red, it all comes to their barkin up the wrong tree about the old man’s property. Mrs. Mountchessington Which he left to you. Asa Trenchard Oh, no. Augusta Not to you? Asa Trenchard No, which he meant to leave to me, but he thought better on it, and left it to his granddaughter Miss Mary Meredith. Mrs. Mountchessington Miss Mary Meredith! Oh, I’m delighted. Augusta Delighted? Asa Trenchard Yes, you both look tickled to death. Now, some gals, and mothers would go away from a fellow when they found that out, but you don’t valley fortune, Miss Gusty? Mrs. Mountchessington Aside, crosses to Augusta. My love, you had better go. Asa Trenchard You crave affection, you do. Now I’ve no fortune, but I’m filling over with affections which I’m ready to pour out all over you like apple sass, over roast pork. Mrs. Mountchessington Mr. Trenchard, you will please recollect you are addressing my daughter, and in my presence. Asa Trenchard Yes, I’m offering her my heart and hand just as she wants them with nothing in ’em. Mrs. Mountchessington Augusta, dear, to your room. Augusta Yes, ma, the nasty beast. Exit R. Mrs. Mountchessington I am aware, Mr. Trenchard, you are not used to the manners of good society, and that, alone, will excuse the impertinence of which you have been guilty. Asa Trenchard Don’t know the manners of good society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal⁠—you sockdologizing old mantrap. Wal, now, when I think what I’ve thrown away in hard cash today I’m apt to call myself some awful hard names, 400,000 dollars is a big pile for a man to light his cigar with. If that gal had only given me herself in exchange, it wouldn’t have been a bad bargain. But I dare no more ask that gal to be my wife, than I dare ask Queen Victoria to dance a Cape Cod reel. Enter Florence Trenchard, L. 1 E. Florence Trenchard What do you mean by doing all these dreadful things? Asa Trenchard Which things. Florence Trenchard Come here sir. He does so. Asa Trenchard What’s the matter? Florence Trenchard Do you know this piece of paper? Showing burnt paper. Asa Trenchard Well I think I have seen it before. Aside. Its old Mark Trenchard’s will that I left half burned up like a landhead, that I am. Florence Trenchard And you’re determined to give up this fortune to Mary Meredith? Asa Trenchard Well, I couldn’t help it if I tried. Florence Trenchard Oh, don’t say that. Asa Trenchard I didn’t mean to do it when I first came here⁠—hadn’t the least idea in the world of it, but when I saw that everlasting angel of a gal movin around among them doing fixins like a sunbeam in a shady place; and when I pictured her without a dollar in the world⁠—I⁠—well my old Adam riz right up, and I said, “Asa Trenchard do it”⁠—and I did it. Florence Trenchard Well, I don’t know who your old Adam may be, but whoever it is, he’s a very honest man to consult you to do so good an action. But how dare you do such an outrageous thing? you impudent⁠—you unceremonious, oh! you unselfish man! you! you, you! Smothers him with kisses, and runs off, R. 1 E. Asa Trenchard Well, if that ain’t worth four hundred thousand dollars, I don’t know what is,