Chapter 8

_The garden of the_ “_Windmill Inn_,” _at Salt Hill_.

MISS BURSAL, MRS. NEWINGTON, SALLY, _the Chambermaid_.

(_Miss Bursal_, _in a fainting state_, _is sitting on a garden stool_, _and leaning her head against the Landlady_. _Sally is holding a glass of water and a smelling bottle_.)

_Miss Bursal_. Where am I? Where am I?

_Landlady_. At the “Windmill,” at Salt Hill, young lady; and ill or well, you can’t be better.

_Sally_. Do you find yourself better since coming into the air, miss?

_Miss B._ Better! Oh, I shall never be better!

(_Leans her head on hand_, _and rocks herself backwards and forwards_.)

_Landlady_. My dear young lady, don’t take on so. (_Aside_.) Now would I give something to know what it was my Lady Piercefield said to the father, and what the father said to this one, and what’s the matter at the bottom of affairs. Sally, did you hear anything at the doors?

_Sally_ (_aside_). No, indeed, ma’am; I never _be’s_ at the doors.

_Landlady_ (_aside_). Simpleton! (_Aloud_.) But, my dear Miss Bursal, if I may be so bold—if you’d only disembosom your mind of what’s on it—

_Miss B._ Disembosom my mind! Nonsense! I’ve nothing on my mind. Pray leave me, madam.

_Landlady_ (_aside_). Madam, indeed! madam, forsooth! Oh, I’ll make her pay for that! That _madam_ shall go down in the bill, as sure as my name’s Newington. (_Landlady_, _in a higher tone_.) Well, I wish you better, ma’am. I suppose I’d best send your own servant?

_Miss B._ (_sullenly_). Yes, I suppose so. (_To Sally_.) You need not wait, child, nor look so curious.

_Sally_. _Cur’ous_! Indeed, miss, if I look a little _cur’ous_, or so (looking at her dress), ’tis only because I was _frighted_ to see you take on, which made me forget my clean apron, when I came out; and this apron—

_Miss B._ Hush! Hush! child. Don’t tell me about clean aprons, nor run on with your vulgar talk. Is there ever a seat one can set on in that _H_arbour yonder?

Sally. O dear ’_art_, yes, miss; ’tis the pleasantest _H_arbour on _H_earth. Be pleased to lean on my _H_arm, and you’ll soon be there.

_Miss B._ (_going_). Then tell my woman she need not come to me, and let nobody _interude_ on me—do you ’_ear_? (_Aside_.) Oh, what will become of me? and the Talbots will soon know it! And the ponies, and the curricle, and the _vis-à-vis_—what will become of them? and how shall I make my appearance at the Montem, or any _ware_ else?