(_A Bell rings furiously._) 'Tis her bell speaks now; Good, good, bestir yourselves: who knows who's wanted?
_Butler_.

But 'twas a merry trick of Philip coachman.
[_Exeunt_.
* * * * * SCENE .-- _Mrs.Selby's Chamber_.
MRS.

FRAMPTON, KATHERINE, _working_.
_Mrs.F._ I am thinking, child, how contrary our fates Have traced our lots through life .-- Another needle, This works untowardly .-- An heiress born To splendid prospects, at our common school I was as one above you all, not of you; Had my distinct prerogatives; my freedoms, Denied to you.

Pray, listen-- _Kath_.

I must hear, What you are pleased to speak--how my heart sinks here! [_Aside_.
_Mrs.F_.My chamber to myself, my separate maid, My coach, and so forth .-- Not that needle, simple one, With the great staring eye fit for a Cyclops! Mine own are not so blinded with their griefs, But I could make a shift to thread a smaller.
A cable or a camel might go through this, And never strain for the passage.
_Kath_.