DOROTHY. Why, you dear, silly fellow, I'm old enough to be your mother.
ANTHONY. My dear Dolly, you do not understand; you are not a man of the world. But, as I was going on to say, there is no more spicy regiment in the service.
MISS FOSTER. I am not surprised that it maintains its old reputation. You know, my dear (TO DOROTHY), it was George Austin's regiment.
DOROTHY. Was it, aunt?
ANTHONY. Beau Austin? Yes, it was; and a precious dust they make about him still - a parcel of old frumps! That's why I went to see him. But he's quite extinct: he couldn't be Corinthian if he tried.
MISS FOSTER. I am afraid that even at your age George Austin held a very different position from the distinguished Anthony Musgrave.
ANTHONY. Come, ma'am, I take that unkindly. Of course I know what you're
