Ag. And take it meekly too?
Har. Nay, I would have my revenge: I should call you scolding Agnes, and little Agnes, and my little Agnes.
Ag. You forget my dignity, Mr Harwood.
Har. Oh! you put all dignity out of countenance! The great Mogul himself would forget his own in your presence.
Ag. Am I, as the good folks say, such a very humbling sight? But they are going to the garden: I am resolved to be one of the party. (As she goes to join Sir Loftus and Mariane, who open a glass door leading to the garden, Harwood goes before, walking backwards, and his face turned to her.) You will break your pate presently, if you walk with that retrograde step, like a dancing-master giving me a lesson. Do you think I shall follow you as if you had the fiddle in your hand?
Har. Ah, Miss Withrington! it is you who have got the fiddle, and I who must follow. [Exeunt into the garden.
Re-enter Sir Loftus from the Garden, looking about for his hat.
Sir Loft. O! here it is.
Enter Opal.
Op. What, here alone?
Sir Loft. She is in the garden, I shall join her immediately.
Op. All goes on well, I suppose?
