Chapter II: Part 2

MRS. T. Go away?

COL. Yes. I'm off back again to Cheltenham. Touch of gout--liver queer; besides, my work here is done. Your husband's affairs, which I confess appeared to me at first sight to be in a state of hopeless confusion, are now clearly and satisfactorily arranged, thanks to my young colleague, Harry Barton, who, I must say, worked like a nigger over them. By-the-bye, he's another victim to Miss Julia's caprice and fastidiousness--she actually snubbed the poor fellow before she'd time even to look at him, much less know him.

MRS. T. Well, you'll confess he bears his disappointment with becoming resignation (_satirically_).

COL. Yes, he's getting used to it, like the eels. He doesn't see the use of crying over spilt milk. By-the-bye, there's another matter of five thousand pounds coming to the girls out of the Hampshire property. But Barton will give you all the particulars.

MRS. T. I'm sure, cousin, I feel deeply indebted to you.

COL. Not half as much as you _ought_ to feel to Harry Barton. Hasn't he been here twice a week for the last month, up to his elbows in leases, loans, mortgages, and the deuce knows what? Oh! here he comes.

_Enter HARRY BARTON at C., a roll of papers under his arm, a
lawyer's blue bag in his hand, which he deposits on chair._

BART. (_bowing to MRS. TEMPLETON_). Your servant, madam. (_To COLONEL._) Ah! my dear colonel, I hope you're well. But perhaps I ought to apologize for entering unannounced. You may be engaged?

MRS. T. Not at all. I am aware, Mr. Barton, how deeply I am in your debt; but now that the business which served as your first introduction here is satisfactorily concluded, pray remember my house is open to you as before (_BARTON bows_). You will kindly excuse me now--a few orders to give (_courtesies and exit L. H.; at the same moment the door at R. H. opens and JOSEPHINE peeps in_).

JOSEPHINE. Is the coast clear? (_watching MRS. TEMPLETON as she goes out_). She's gone at last (_runs in_).

BART. (_meeting her_). Jo, dear Jo (_taking her hand, which he is about to kiss_).

JOSEPHINE. Wait a minute! (_looking after MRS. TEMPLETON_). She's quite disappeared; _now_ you may! (_holding out her hand to BARTON, who kisses it_). And now (_turning to COLONEL_), you dear, good, kind old uncle. Uncle is it, or cousin? I never know which.

COL. Don't you? It's simple enough. Your mother's elder brother's second--never mind. Call me uncle.

JOSEPHINE. Well? Have you spoken to Aunt Martha?

BART. Yes. Have you broken the ice?

COL. Cracked it, that's all!

JOSEPHINE. And what was the result? Did she consent or not?

BART. Did she say yes or no?

JOSEPHINE. Why don't you speak? (_impatiently_).

BART. Why don't you say something? (_ditto_).

COL. How the deuce can I, when you won't let me get in a word edgeways? Well, then, my poor young friends, sorry I've no good news for you; the old story over again--Miss Julia stops the way.

BART. And yet Mrs. Templeton's pressing invitation to me to visit at her house--

COL. Is easily explained. She doesn't even suspect that your affections have been transferred from her elder to her younger niece.

JOSEPHINE. Then you should have told her--then there would have been an explosion!

COL. Yes, which would have blown Master Harry clean out of the street door! No, no! don't despair; Julia will find a husband--sooner or later!

JOSEPHINE. Sooner or later? But what am _I_ to do in the mean time?

BART. Yes! what are _we_ to do in the mean time?

JOSEPHINE. I'm sure she's had plenty of offers; but one was too young--another was too old--one was too rich--another wasn't rich enough; even poor Harry here, though he followed her about like her shadow, and I'm sure made himself sufficiently ridiculous--even _he_ wasn't good enough for her ladyship! It's downright absurd being so particular. I'm sure _I_ wasn't!

BART. No, dear Jo! _you_ took pity on me at once.

JOSEPHINE. No, not _quite_ at once. I didn't _jump_ at you. But what--what is to be done?

COL. Have patience!

JOSEPHINE. Patience? _Haven't_ I been patient for the last five weeks?

BART. Five weeks and three days!

JOSEPHINE. Five weeks and three days! (_suddenly_). Oh! such an idea! such a capital notion! Listen. Julia must find a husband, or a husband must be found for Julia--that's a settled point.

COL. } } (_together_). Quite so! BART. }

JOSEPHINE. Well, then, as she sets her face against a _young_ one--

COL. Yes; as she sets her face against a young one--

JOSEPHINE. And turns up her nose at a handsome one--

COL. And turns up her nose at a handsome one--

JOSEPHINE. She might find _you_ more to her taste! (_to COLONEL_).

COL. She might find me more to her-- (_Seeing JOSEPHINE laughing._) So, Miss Saucy one, you're poking fun at me, are you? Then you'll be good enough to find another victim--I mean another admirer, for Miss Julia! Egad, I must make haste and pack up, or I shall lose my train! Come along with me, little one! Good-by, Barton! Keep up your spirits! Recollect you've still got _me!_

JOSEPHINE. And _me,_ Harry. Not yet, but you _will!_

[_Exeunt COLONEL and JOSEPHINE at door R. H._

BART. Dear Josephine! What a contrast to her cold, insensible, apathetic sister! I, who loved her so sincerely, so devotedly, made such a thorough spooney of myself! and was even weak enough to believe I was not quite indifferent to her! I confess I felt hurt--considerably hurt--infernally hurt; but if she flattered herself I should be inconsolable, she never was more mistaken in her life! She little dreamt how soon I should find a cure for my infatuation in the charms of her angelic sister! Dear Josephine! And to think there's no hope of my calling her mine till we find somebody to call her sister _his!_ By-the-bye, here are a few papers I must look over (_seating himself at table and opening papers_).

ROYS. (_heard without_). Very well; take my card to Mrs. Templeton. I'll wait. I'm in no hurry.

BART. Heyday! who have we here?

_Enter BASIL ROYSTON at C._

ROYS. (_coming down--seeing BARTON_). I beg pardon, sir!

BART. (_rising_). Sir--I--

ROYS. Be seated, I beg.

BART. Not till you set me the example (_pointing to chair--they seat themselves_).

ROYS. Like me, sir, you are doubtless waiting to see Mrs. Templeton?

BART. No, sir.

ROYS. Oh! One of the family, perhaps? Possibly a friend?

BART. Yes, sir, a friend. (_Aside._) He's very inquisitive!

ROYS. (_looking at album_). What charming water-colors--perfect gems!

BART. They are the work of Mrs. Templeton's elder niece. Are _you_ an artist?

ROYS. No, merely an amateur. And you?

BART. A humble member of the legal profession.

ROYS. A lawyer--eh? (_Aside._) By Jove! here's a chance for me! I've half a mind to--he looks the very picture of good-nature, and six and eightpence won't ruin me! (_Aloud._) Might I venture, sir, on so very slight an acquaintance, to solicit your professional opinion? (_BARTON bows._) It is rather a delicate subject, a very _peculiar_ subject.

BART. I'm all attention, sir, merely observing that the sooner you begin--

ROYS. The sooner I shall have done. Exactly. Then I'll come to the point at once. I would ask you whether, in your opinion, a promise of marriage, written under _certain circumstances_ and under certain _conditions,_ must necessarily be binding?

BART. Such conditions being--

ROYS. First and foremost--that the lady should have her head altered!

BART. (_astonished_). Have her head altered?

ROYS. I mean, have her hair dyed!

BART. Which condition the lady has not complied with?

ROYS. No, sir! It's as red as ever!

BART. Then, sir, I've no hesitation in saying that the promise falls to the ground.

ROYS. Thank you, sir (_seizing BARTON'S hand and shaking it--aside and sighing_). Poor Sophia!

BART. May I inquire the name of my _new_ client? (_smiling_).

ROYS. Royston.

BART. The Roystons of Banbury?

ROYS. Yes, Banbury--where the cakes come from.

BART. I was aware that Mrs. Templeton expected you on a matter of business--a certain sum of money, I believe?

ROYS. Yes, coming to the family from some Hampshire property.

BART. I imagined Mr. Royston was a much older person.

ROYS. I see! You mean Jonathan.

BART. Jonathan?

Rots. Yes, my brother--the head of the firm--he's twenty years my senior! But as he could not spare the time to come, he sent me.

BART. (_aside_). It's worth the trial--decidedly worth it! (_looking aside at ROYSTON_). Young, gentlemanly, sufficiently good-looking, good family! Here goes! (_Aloud._) Excuse my candor, but I think I guess your motive in putting the professional question you did just now. _You_ are the writer of the promise of marriage, and you are desirous of contracting _another_ alliance--eh?

ROYS. _I_ don't care about it, but Jonathan does! (_Aside, and sighing again._) Poor Sophia!

BART. Perhaps you have some party in view?

ROYS. No. But I'm on the lookout.

BART. And, no doubt, anxious to succeed?

ROYS. Not particularly--but Jonathan is.

BART. Perhaps that is the object of your visit _here?_

ROYS. Eh? Is there a marriageable young lady here?

BART. Yes.

ROYS. I should like to see her.

BART. Nothing more easy.

ROYS. What age?

BART. Twenty.

ROYS. Any fortune?

BART. Ten thousand.

ROYS. That'd just suit Jonathan! Pretty?

BART. Charming!

ROYS. That'd just suit _me!_ Egad, suppose I try my luck? I've half a mind!

BART. Have a _whole_ one! I've a notion you'll succeed!

ROYS. But I know nobody here!

BART. I beg your pardon! you know _me!_

ROYS. Eh?

BART. Known me for _years_ (_with intention_).

ROYS. (_suddenly seeing BARTON'S meaning_). Of course I have!

BART. Ever since we were children!

ROYS. Babies!

BART. We went to the same school together!

ROYS. Of course we did!

BART. At Tunbridge Wells!

ROYS. Yes, at Bagnigge Wells!

BART. And we have been friends ever since!

ROYS. (_enthusiastically_). _Bosom friends!_ And you'll really do all you can to serve me?

BART. Of course I will! (_Aside._) And myself at the same time!

ROYS. A thousand thanks, my dear-- By-the-bye, what shall I call you?

BART. Harry. And you?

ROYS. Basil (_grasping BARTON'S hand_). Sophia might scratch your eyes out, but Jonathan will bless you.

BART. Hush! (_seeing MRS. TEMPLETON, who enters at L. H._).

MRS. T. (_to ROYSTON_). Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Royston.

ROYS. I am here, madam, as my brother's representative.

MRS. T. I am aware of it. Mr. Barton, allow me to introduce to you--

BART. No necessity for it, madam. Basil is an old friend of mine.

ROYS. Yes, madam! I little thought of meeting an old schoolfellow here (_shaking BARTON'S hand warmly_). Some years ago now--eh, Tom?

BART. (_aside to him_). Harry!

ROYS. Harry!

MRS. T. So you were school-fellows--eh?

ROYS. Yes, ma'am, at--Bagnigge Wells.

BART. (_hastily aside to him_). Tunbridge!

ROYS. Of course! Tunbridge!

MRS. T. You must have had some difficulty in recognizing each other?

ROYS. _I_ had--very _considerable_ difficulty, I assure you!

BART. We should have met earlier, no doubt, but for my friend's lengthened absence in Italy (_significantly to ROYSTON_).

ROYS. Yes. Ah! charming country--for those who don't mind the cold! (_On a sign from BARTON._) I mean the heat!

MRS. T. (_aside and looking at ROYSTON_). Really a vastly agreeable young man!

_Enter COLONEL at R. H._

COL. So Royston has arrived, has he? (_Seeing BASIL._) Heyday! why, this is Basil--his younger brother!

ROYS. At your service, colonel.

MRS. T. You are acquainted, then?

COL. I was intimate with his mother's family--indeed, I may say I was the means of getting him a nomination to the Blue Coat school.

BART. (_aside_). This is deuced awkward!

MRS. T. The Blue Coat school? I thought you said Tunbridge Wells?

ROYS. (_recollecting_). Yes; that was before--I mean after--

COL. (_aside and suspiciously_). I suspect these young fellows are playing some little game of their own; and, what's more, I can pretty well guess what it is!

MRS. T. (_aside to COLONEL_). As Mr. Royston is an entire stranger to me, may I ask you, Cousin Samuel, what is the opinion you have formed of him?

COL. Oh! a very charming young man, indeed! Most respectable family! an ample income already, with great expectations from a couple of aunts and a godmother! A little wild at present, perhaps, but he'll soon settle down when he's _married!_ Ah! happy the woman who makes a conquest of such a man! (_Aside._) There! now _I'm_ in the conspiracy too!

MRS. T. (_to ROYSTON_). Your friend Mr. Barton does not leave here till to-morrow; you, I hope, will also defer your departure till then?

BART. (_quickly to ROYSTON_). Of course you will! (_To MRS. T._) Of course he will! (_To ROYSTON._) You'll be only too delighted! (_To MRS. T._) He'll be only too delighted!

MRS. T. Ah! here's my niece! (_going up to meet JULIA, who enters at C._).

ROYS. (_seeing JOSEPHINE, who at the same moment enters at R. H._). Look! what a charming creature!

BART. No, no! it isn't she! it's the other! Look there! (_pointing to JULIA_). There's a figure! there's a symmetry! Look at those finely-chiselled features!

ROYS. Yes, yes! but still, in my opinion (_looking admiringly at JOSEPHINE_)--

BART. Your opinion, indeed! Pshaw! what do you know about it?

JOSEPHINE (_aside to COLONEL, and pointing to ROYSTON_). What! has Harry found somebody already?

MRS. T. Julia, my dear, allow me to present Mr. Royston, an old friend of Mr. Barton's (_JULIA courtesies stiffly to ROYSTON_).

BART. (_to ROYSTON_). There's a courtesy! that's what I call a courtesy!

ROYS. Yes! but, as I said before, of the two I prefer (_looking at JOSEPHINE_)--

BART. You prefer, indeed! Surely I must know better than you! (_To JULIA._) My friend Royston, a distinguished amateur of the fine arts, is in raptures with your sketches, Miss Julia. (_JULIA courtesies stiffly again._)

JOSEPHINE (_to JULIA_). Why don't you thank Mr. Royston, sister?

ROYS. (_aside to BARTON_). Oh! she's the sister--eh?

BART. (_with pretended indifference_). Yes, a little, harmless, insignificant school-girl--

ROYS. Still, I repeat, if I had to choose between them--

BART. Pshaw! my dear fellow, if you only knew what nonsense you're talking! (_Aside._) Zounds! I hope he isn't going to fall in love with Josephine!

COL. Sorry to interrupt, but my time is precious, and business must be attended to. Mr. Royston, will you step into the dining-room with your papers? Barton, you'll come too?

JOSEPHINE (_hastily aside to BARTON_). I understand it all, Harry. A very nice young man, indeed! and likely to stand a good chance. Don't you think so? Where _did_ you pick him up so soon?

BART. Hush! I'll explain everything another time.

[_COLONEL and MRS. TEMPLETON exeunt at R. H., followed by BARTON
and ROYSTON. ROYSTON stops, turns, and makes a profound bow to
JOSEPHINE. BARTON pushes him out._

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). I wonder what she thinks of him? (_Aloud._) A very gentlemanly young man, Mr. Royston, don't you think so, Julia?

JULIA (_indifferently_). I scarcely looked at him.

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). That's not very encouraging! (_Aloud._) How _do_ you manage to find so many admirers? _I_ can't!

JULIA (_smiling_). Hitherto, perhaps, I may have had the lion's share of attention, homage, and professed admiration; but _your_ turn will come.

JOSEPHINE. It's a long time about it! You are so difficult to please. And poor Mr. Royston, I suppose, will be snubbed like the rest!

JULIA (_reprovingly_). Josephine! surely you don't imagine--

JOSEPHINE. That there is some attraction for him here? Of course I do! It can't be Aunt Martha--nor I! _I'm_ only a _child!_ (_with affected humility_).

JULIA. Josephine, you speak as though you were piqued, vexed--I might almost say _envious!_

JOSEPHINE. Envious? I? Of what?

JULIA (_sighing_). Of what, indeed! Ah, dear one, the privileges of an elder sister are not so enviable after all! What is often her lot?--to be constantly exposed to flattery--adulation from the lips of strangers--compelling her to assume an extreme reserve in order to modify the exaggerated and at times indelicate encomiums of relatives and friends. What is the necessary result? Doubt, distrust, suspicion--nay, even prejudice, oftentimes unjust, against those who profess a desire to please! On this impulse _I_ have acted--an impulse dictated by self-respect and a due sense of my own dignity!

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). What a serious tone! (_Aloud._) But just think how cruelly, how unjustly you _may_ have acted. And I'm sure, as for Mr. Royston--

JULIA. Mr. Royston again! Silly child!

JOSEPHINE. Child? Perhaps I could mention a little fact that--that--but I won't! (_Aside._) Good-by to my secret if I did! (_Aloud._) Good-by!

JULIA. Are you going to leave me too?

JOSEPHINE. Haven't I got to write out all the invitations for our ball on the 23d?

JULIA. Your birthday?--true.

JOSEPHINE. Yes; that is the _professed_ reason--but of course it is on _your_ account that it is given.

JULIA (_reproachfully_). Josephine!

JOSEPHINE. I know a younger sister's duty, Miss Templeton (_makes a low courtesy and exit L. H._).

JULIA. Josephine! sister!--Did she but know how she misjudges me! How heavily I have been punished for that pride, that apparent insensibility, with which she reproaches me! Oh, Harry! Harry! could you but tell how bitterly I have repented! But surely, surely the cruel, wicked indifference with which I treated his affection, his devotion, cannot have entirely destroyed them--some _little_ spark of the old flame must still remain! else why is he so constantly here? Why does he still seem to seek my presence? At any rate, he shall see that I am no heartless coquette; and when this Mr. Royston presents himself, as I'm sure he _will_ (_seeing ROYSTON, who enters from R. H._)-- I thought so!

ROYS. (_aside_). She's alone! She's decidedly handsome. Yet, as I said before, there's something about the other that--that-- (_Aloud, and bowing to JULIA._) Miss Templeton!

JULIA (_courtesying_). Sir! the business matter in which you are engaged is, I presume, settled?

ROYS. Yes; the signatures alone are required.

JULIA. In that case perhaps I had better-- (_About to retire._)

ROYS. One moment, I beg! (_Aside._) She's decidedly _very_ handsome! Still--don't know how it is--but there is certainly something about the other that--that-- (_Aloud._) Before leaving this house to-morrow, with my new acquaintance--I mean _my old friend_ Barton--

JULIA (_quickly_). Mr. Barton leaves to-morrow?

ROYS. Yes, alas! I say "alas," because one day only is now left for me to admire your physical attractions, your mental accomplishments--

JULIA. Oh, sir! Believe me, my sister is far more accomplished than I am.

ROYS. Far be it from me to deny it. Still, from the highly eulogistic terms in which every one speaks of you--your sister among the first--

JULIA. Ah, sir! Dear Josephine is so amiable, so affectionate, so good, so loving, so angelic--

ROYS. (_aside_). She sticks up for her sister, that I will say! (_Aloud._) Still, there are _certain_ attractions which we can all judge of by our own eyes.

JULIA (_quickly_). And who can possess them to a greater degree than Josephine? Such exquisite grace--such absolute perfection of form and feature--

ROYS. (_aside_). Her sister again! If we go on at this rate, we sha'n't get on very fast! (_Aloud._) Allow me to be frank with you; my brother Jonathan--but perhaps you've never heard of Jonathan?--Jonathan Royston, of Banbury--where the cakes come from--well, he often reproaches me with being what he calls rather wild and fast and flighty--

JULIA. The only fault I find with Josephine, dear child. She is so giddy, so thoughtless, so excitable! What a capital match you'd make! Ha, ha, ha!

ROYS. (_aside_). That's a pretty broad hint! (_Aloud._) And he--I mean Jonathan--says that the best thing I could do would be to get _married!_

JULIA. The very conclusion I have come to about Josephine.

ROYS. (_aside_). It really looks as if she wanted to turn me over to her sister. (_Aloud._) And having received the flattering assurance that my pretensions to your hand might possibly not be unsuccessful--

JULIA. From whom, pray? Doubtless from my aunt.

ROYS. Oh no! From my dear old friend, Barton.

JULIA (_indignantly_). Mr. Barton? He? No, no! I cannot, _will_ not believe it!

ROYS. I'm sure he will not deny it--and see, fortunately, he's here!

_Enter BARTON at door R. H._

BART. Miss Templeton, your presence is required in the drawing-room.

JULIA (_very coldly, and seating herself at table_). Presently.

BART. (_aside to ROYSTON_). Well, what news?

ROYS. (_aside_). All right! At least, if it isn't this one, it'll be the other! One of the two!

BART. What do you mean by "the other?"

ROYS. The "little, harmless, insignificant school-girl," you know!

BART. (_aside_). Confound the fellow!

ROYS. You first put the notion of marriage into my head, and I won't leave this house a bachelor; I'll marry somebody! I leave you together! You'll plead my cause, won't you?--and pitch it strong, won't you? I shall be all anxiety to know the result--because if _she_ won't have me, I can fall back on the other. Don't you see? (_shaking BARTON'S hand, and runs out at C._).

BART. (_aside, and looking at JULIA_). To have to plead the cause of another, when, in spite of me, her presence _will_ recall the past, painful, humiliating as it is!

JULIA (_with indifference_). Your friend has left you, Mr. Barton?

BART. He has, _Miss Templeton;_ but he has left an advocate to intercede with you on his behalf.

JULIA (_satirically_). A willing and an earnest one, no doubt, who probably has already furnished him with a detailed catalogue of my tastes, habits, pursuits, disposition--

BART. (_aside_). He's been blabbing! (_Aloud._) Surely he cannot have betrayed my confidence?

JULIA (_with suppressed anger_). The charge of "betrayal of confidence" should rather be levelled at one who by his intimacy with a family, into which he is admitted on terms of friendship, is enabled to study the characters of its members for the purpose of retailing the result of his observations to others!

BART. I will not affect to misunderstand your reproof. It is true that I spoke of you to Mr. Royston in terms which you fully merit--that I even told him your heart was free.

JULIA. Perfectly, absolutely free! You undertook to be his advocate with such zeal, such earnestness, one might almost imagine you had some personal interest.

BART. And what if I _had_ an interest--a _powerful_ interest?

JULIA (_quickly_). Indeed?

BART. Yes. And after the somewhat harsh rejection I met with at your hands--which, no doubt, I fully merited--what greater proof can I give of the esteem in which I still hold you than to confide my secret to you?

JULIA (_starting_). A secret? (_Aside._) What can he mean?

BART. That, on the eve of leaving your family, I should feel far less regret could I but indulge in the hope of ever becoming connected with it by a closer tie.

JULIA (_aside, and joyfully_). Can it be? Has he forgotten--forgiven? Can he still care for me? (_Aloud._) But why this silence--this want of confidence in me?

BART. Frankly, because we feared you would oppose our wishes, our hopes.

JULIA (_eagerly_). _Our_ hopes? _We_ feared?

BART. Yes! She especially.

JULIA. _She?_ Of whom are you speaking? Her name?

BART. Surely I must have mentioned it? Your sister.

JULIA (_starting from her chair_). Josephine!

BART. Yes; rejected by her elder sister, I sought and found solace and consolation in her goodness and sympathy.

JULIA (_with increasing anger_). So! Your frequent visits, your constant presence here, apparently so inconsistent with your "wounded feelings" (_satirically_), are now explained! It was for _her!_ And _I_ was to be kept in ignorance--to fancy, to believe, to hope--

BART. (_surprised_). Miss Templeton!

JULIA. I now understand this anxiety to dispose of my hand--this crowd of admirers thrown in my way! What mattered _my_ feelings--_my_ happiness? I was an obstacle to be removed! (_with increasing excitement_).

BART. I implore you--

JULIA (_stamping her foot_). Silence, sir!

_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON hurriedly at R. H._

MRS. T. What is the matter here? Julia! what means this excitement--this agitation? Perhaps you, sir (_to BARTON_)--

BART. I am as much surprised as yourself, madam! I ventured to confide to Miss Julia my pretensions to the hand of her sister--

MRS. T. (_with a scream_). What! You had the _cruelty,_ the _barbarity_ to make such an avowal to her elder sister? (_advancing upon BARTON, who retreats_)--to lacerate her feelings! to wound her pride!

JULIA. Yes, that's it!--to wound my pride!

BART. But really--

MRS. T. Silence, young man! I remember what _my_ feelings were when my younger sister was married before me. I was choking, sir! suffocating, sir! I turned positively purple! all sorts of colors, sir! And here is a little pert, forward chit, daring to follow her Aunt Dorothy Jane's example!--but here she comes. (_Enter COLONEL from R. H., and JOSEPHINE from L. H._) So, miss (_advancing angrily on JOSEPHINE_), a pretty account I've heard of you! To mix yourself up at _your_ age in a silly romance--a nonsensical love-intrigue--

COL. (_interfering_). But, my dear Martha--

MRS. T. (_turning sharply on him_). Hold _your_ tongue, Cousin Samuel!

JOSEPHINE. But, aunt, if you'll only allow me--

MRS. T. But I _won't_ allow you! (_To JULIA._) Keep up your spirits, poor persecuted victim!

JOSEPHINE. Victim? It seems to me that _I'm_ the victim! Just as I thought I was going to be married and settled! (_beginning to sob; COLONEL tries to pacify her_).

MRS. T. Married and settled, indeed! A child--a baby like you! (_To BARTON._) After what has occurred, sir, you will see that your further presence under this roof--

BART. (_bowing_). I fully understand, madam!

MRS. T. (_to JOSEPHINE_). Come, miss, follow me! (_JOSEPHINE about to speak._) Not a word! It is for _me_ to speak, as you'll find I intend to do, and to some purpose. This way! (_making JOSEPHINE pass before her; she and JULIA follow her out at R. H._).

COL. Wheugh! here's a pretty piece of business!

BART. Not satisfied with rejecting me herself, she carries her prejudice, her hate so far as to--

COL. Hate? nonsense! (_Suddenly._) By Jove! I have it!--at least I think I have. What if she should feel a "sneaking kindness" for you, after all?

BART. Pshaw!

COL. But what about friend Royston?

BART. Hang friend Royston!

COL. With all my heart; but where the deuce is he?

BART. Waiting somewhere or other to hear the result of my interview with Miss Templeton.

COL. In which you undertook to plead his cause--eh?

BART. Yes; and forgot all about it in my anxiety to plead my own!

COL. What's that? Do you mean to say you confided to her the secret between you and Josephine?

BART. Yes; trusting in her generous nature and her sisterly affection, I certainly _did!_

COL. And a pretty mess you've made of it! Well, I must find Royston and let him know. As for you, as you've received orders to march, the sooner you pack up and pack off the better! (_hurries out at C._).

(_Door at R. H. opens, and JOSEPHINE peeps in._)

JOSEPHINE. Harry! Are you alone?--quite alone? (_hurries forward_).

BART. Yes. What is it?

JOSEPHINE. Such a discovery! (_in a very mysterious tone_). She's got one!

BART. She? Who?

JOSEPHINE. Julia!

BART. Got one? Got what?

JOSEPHINE. A young man! shut up in a box!

BART. In a box?

JOSEPHINE. Listen. After being well scolded by Aunt Martha, I followed Julia to her room. There she was, with a little open box before her, out of which she took something, looked at it, then pressed her lips to it, and gave such a sigh!--you might have heard it here! perhaps you did?

BART. Well?

JOSEPHINE. Then aunt called her, and she hurried out of the room, leaving the box on the table; and then--then--somehow or other--here it is! (_producing a small casket_). It looks as if there was a young man inside--I mean a portrait--doesn't it?

BART. You've not opened it? (_eagerly_).

JOSEPHINE. No! That's for Aunt Martha to do!

BART. Surely you would not betray your sister's secret--perhaps her happiness?

JOSEPHINE. Much she cared about _mine,_ didn't she? Aunt Martha must and shall see it! (_going; BARTON stops her, the box falls on stage and opens_). There! there! how clumsy you are!

BART. (_picks up the box, and then suddenly starting_). What do I see?

JOSEPHINE. That's what I want to know! It _is_ a portrait, isn't it?

BART. (_confused_). Yes!--no! a mere fancy sketch, nothing more! (_taking miniature from box, and hastily concealing it in his breast-pocket_). Be persuaded by me! replace the box where you found it! (_giving box to her_).

JOSEPHINE. Mayn't I take just one little peep?--not that I've an atom of curiosity!

BART. No, no!

JOSEPHINE. Well, if you insist on it.

BART. I do not _insist,_ I beg, _implore_ of you.

JOSEPHINE. Very well! (_hurries out at R. H._).

BART. (_watching her out, then taking miniature out and looking at it_). My portrait! and what is written here? (_Reading._) "From memory." What am I to think? Can I dare to hope that her indifference was assumed--that she ever loved me--that she loves me still? Can such happiness be mine? Dear, dear Julia. But zounds! what about Josephine? Poor little girl! I can't marry them both! What--what is to be done? (_walking up and down_). Will anybody tell me what's to be done?

_Enter ROYSTON hurriedly at C._

ROYS. (_coming down_). Oh, here you are! I couldn't wait any longer! (_following BARTON up and down_).

BART. (_impatiently_). Don't worry! don't bother!

ROYS. (_astonished_). Bother! when I want to thank you for introducing me to this charming, amiable family, and to tell you I don't despair of becoming one of it!

BART. What?

ROYS. In a word, I'm in love! There's no mistake about it! Over head and ears in love!

BART. What, sir? you persist in carrying on this absurd, ridiculous joke?

ROYS. Joke?

BART. Yes, sir; I beg to tell you I'll not allow, I'll not permit you to annoy poor dear Julia--I mean Miss Templeton--with your unwelcome attentions, sir--your absurd importunities, sir?

ROYS. Miss Templeton? My dear fellow, she's nothing whatever to do with it! It's the other! the little one!

BART. (_joyfully_). Josephine?

ROYS. Yes.

BART. My dear fellow! Come to my arms! (_throwing his arms about ROYSTON, who struggles_). I congratulate you! I give you joy! Such a sweet, charming, amiable creature, brimful of talent, overflowing with tenderness. Come to my arms again! (_embracing ROYSTON again_).

ROYS. Then you'll speak for me--eh?

BART. Speak for yourself--here she comes.

_Enter JOSEPHINE hurriedly at R._

JOSEPHINE (_stopping on seeing ROYSTON_). Mr. Royston.

BART. (_aside to ROYSTON_). Now, then, speak out! don't be afraid! put on a sentimental look.

ROYS. (_assuming a very lackadaisical look_). This sort of thing! (_Aloud._) Miss Josephine--I--I-- (_Aside._) It's very awkward! if I only knew how to begin.

BART. (_aside to him_). Go on!

ROYS. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for me to find myself in your charming society without being captivated--enchanted--by your fascinations, your--

JOSEPHINE (_surprised_). I thought it was my sister who--

ROYS. So it was! but she wouldn't have me! that's why I--

BART. (_hastily aside to him_). No! that won't do!

ROYS. (_shouting_). No! that won't do!

JOSEPHINE. (_still more astonished_). And you don't hesitate to address me in this language before-- (_pointing to BARTON_).

ROYS. Before my friend--my bosom friend--that I went to school with at Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who encourages me--who tells me to "go on." You told me to "go on," didn't you?

JOSEPHINE (_with intention, and looking at BARTON_). But has it never occurred to you that you might have a rival?

ROYS. So much the better! I should make it my immediate business to sweep him off the face of the earth!

JOSEPHINE (_to BARTON, in a sarcastic tone_). And you, sir! you can listen with perfect calmness, indifference! Have _you_ nothing to say?

ROYS. Yes! Have _you_ nothing?--

BART. (_aside to him_). Hold _your_ tongue! (_Aloud, and with affected solemnity._) Ah! who can anticipate events? How little do we know what a few hours may bring forth!

ROYS. Yes! how little do we know!--

BART. (_aside to him again_). Hold your tongue! (_Aloud._) In a word, what if circumstances compel me to leave England for a considerable time?

JOSEPHINE. A considerable time?

BART. Yes; for two years at least--possibly more!

JOSEPHINE. Two or three years?

BART. Could I venture to hope that you would submit to such a tax on your goodness--your patience?

JOSEPHINE (_very quickly_). I should think not, indeed!

BART. (_aside_). She doesn't love me! Huzza! (_Aloud._) What course is, then, open to me? One--only one: to sacrifice myself to the happiness of my friend!

ROYS. (_grasping his hand_). Glorious creature!

JOSEPHINE. But what about your _own_ happiness? It isn't likely you could give me up so quietly without some _other_ reason--some _other_ motive!

BART. I have _another_ motive, which for your sister's sake you will respect! In a word, that portrait--

JOSEPHINE. In Julia's box? Yes. Well?

BART. Was _mine!_ See! (_taking out portrait and showing it_).

JOSEPHINE (_exclaiming_). Yours? It is!

ROYS. Yours? It is! (_bewildered_).

JOSEPHINE. Then--then _you_ are her young man, after all?

ROYS. Yes. You are her young man--

JOSEPHINE. Of course; now I understand. Now I see it all.

ROYS. So do I! No, I don't! At least, not _quite._

_Enter COLONEL hurriedly at C._

COL. (_singing as he comes in_). "See, the conquering hero comes." Victory! victory! Everything's settled; and now, my dear young friends (_shaking BARTON'S and JOSEPHINE'S hands_), you can get married as soon as you like.

JOSEPHINE. } } BART. } (_together_). Married? } ROYS. }

COL. Yes! I had a devil of a fight for it, but I've carried the day! Aunt Martha consents, Julia consents, everybody consents!

ROYS. I beg your pardon! _I_ don't! (_Shouting_). I forbid the banns!

_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON, followed by JULIA, at R. H._

JULIA (_aside, as she sees BARTON_). Still here!

JOSEPHINE. So, Aunt Martha, you've given your consent? And you, too, Julia?

JULIA (_endeavoring to conceal her emotion_). Yes, Josephine, willingly, gladly! Can I be indifferent to your happiness? (_smiling sadly_).

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). How bravely she bears herself! (_Aloud._) And yet, just now, you were so indignant, so angry with me?

JULIA. A momentary caprice, an unworthy jealousy!--but no more of that. Kiss me, dear sister! (_kissing JOSEPHINE and moving away_).

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). A tear? But you won't suffer long, poor dear martyr! (_Suddenly bursting into loud laughter._) Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside to COLONEL._) Laugh!

COL. (_forcing laugh_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) Laugh!

ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) I don't know what I'm laughing about.

MRS. T. What _is_ the matter?

JOSEPHINE (_laughing again_). Ha! ha! ha! You don't mean to say you've all been taken in? Did you think we were in earnest all the time? Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside to COLONEL._) Laugh!

COL. Ha! ha! ha!

ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha!

MRS. T. (_impatiently_). Josephine, I insist on your explaining this extraordinary behavior instantly!

JOSEPHINE. Nothing so simple. (_To COLONEL and BARTON._) There's no necessity for our carrying on this innocent little _jest_ any longer, is there?

MRS. T. Jest?

JOSEPHINE. Yes; this harmless conspiracy to make everybody happy! Julia dear, it was to test your love for me that I pretended to be so very anxious to get married, which I wasn't the least little bit in the world (_with a sly look at ROYSTON_). I mean I wasn't _then!_ My fellow-conspirator, Mr. Barton, fearing that your rejection of him might proceed from a preference for another, joined in the plot, but very unwillingly, for it is you, Julia, you alone, that he has ever loved; you alone that he loves still!

MRS. T. What is it I hear?

BART. The truth, madam! (_To JULIA._) May I hope, or must I endure a second refusal!

JULIA (_tenderly_). I suffered too much from the first, Harry (_giving her hand to BARTON_).

ROYS. (_aside_). That's _one_ couple; but there's room for another. (_To MRS. TEMPLETON._) Madam, I have the honor to solicit the hand of your younger niece, Miss Josephine!

MRS. T. With all my heart, Mr. Royston; that is, unless Josephine objects.

JOSEPHINE (_quickly_). But she doesn't! (_giving her hand to ROYSTON_).

BART. You see, Jonathan will be satisfied, after all.

ROYS. Yes. But poor Sophia (_sighing_).

BART. Hush! (_Aside to JULIA, and slipping the portrait into her hand._) You'll put this portrait back in its place.

JOSEPHINE. She won't care to look at it, now that she's got the _original._

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

PEPPERPOT'S LITTLE PETS!

_In One Act._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

JACK PEPPERPOT, late H. M. 147th Foot.

DOCTOR JACOBUS JOGTROT.

MR. CHRISTOPHER CHIRPER.

STEPHEN BLUNT.

MRS. TARLETAN.

JESSIE (her niece).

MARTHA (a servant).

SCENE.--Mrs. Tarletan's Villa at Hampstead.

_Elegantly furnished room at MRS. TARLETAN'S villa. French windows at back showing garden beyond; doors R. H. 3 E. and L.; fireplace at L. H. 2 E.; table, chairs, sofa, etc. MARTHA discovered arranging furniture, etc._ (_bell heard without_).

MARTHA. There's the gate bell beginning. Butcher for orders, I suppose. (_Bell heard again._) I thought so; he's the most impatient young man I ever came across! Asked me if I'd marry him only yesterday morning when he called for orders, and was quite saucy because I hadn't made up my mind when he brought the meat! I must go and ask missus. (_Exit door R. JACK PEPPERPOT is seen to cross at back beyond the French windows; looks cautiously in at C._).

JACK. No one to be seen; so much the better. (_Calling off._) Now then, Blunt, come along! take care how you turn the corner; that'll do. (_Enters at C., walking backward, closely followed by STEPHEN BLUNT, in an undress military jacket and cap, carrying a box covered with Chinese characters._) Left wheel! halt. (_Takes box carefully from BLUNT and places it on small table--opens lid._) Nothing broken, I hope. No; I don't even see a chip!

BLUNT. That's a wonder, too, your honor! cups and saucers is rather a delicate sort of cargo to bring all the way from China.

JACK (_looking at watch_). Nine o'clock! I wonder if my dear, excellent old aunt is still indulging in a horizontal position? We reached town so late last night, I was afraid to disturb the dear old soul. (_Looking round him._) Blunt, it strikes me we shall find our quarters here very comfortable--eh? (_falling into chair and stretching out his legs_).

BLUNT. I think so too, your honor (_imitating JACK, then jumping up again and saluting_). Beg pardon, your honor! but when you say our quarters--

JACK. I _mean_ our quarters! You wouldn't think of leaving me, you brute, would you? Haven't we spent the last ten years of our lives together--more or less respectably?--and if I _have_ got back to Old England again, sound in wind and limb, who have I to thank? who but you, you fine faithful old dog you (_laying his hand on BLUNT'S shoulder_).

BLUNT (_deprecatingly_). Oh! oh!

JACK. If _you_ forget a certain sabre cut I received at the Alma, _I_ don't.

BLUNT. Oh! oh! just a little bit of a scratch.

JACK. Exactly; a little bit of a scratch that began at the top of my head and finished at the tip of my nose! I was lying on my back faint and sick, when a noble, lion-hearted fellow cut his way through the Russian cavalry at the risk of his life, the idiot, threw me across his horse, and saved me! That noble, lion-hearted idiot was Stephen Blunt--bless him! But enough of the past! By-the-bye, Blunt, as long as you are stationed here you must make it a point of finding everybody and everything about you charming, delightful--in short, first chop!

BLUNT (_touching his cap_). All right, your honor!

MRS. TARLETAN (_heard without_). If I am wanted, Martha, you'll find me in the garden.

JACK. Here comes my aunt; beat a retreat--quick, anywhere.

[_BLUNT hurries out at L. H._

_Enter MRS. TARLETAN at R._

MRS. T. (_seeing JACK_). A stranger?

JACK (_smiling_). Not quite. (_Going to her._) Don't you know me, _aunt?_

MRS. T. Eh? (_Suddenly._) Jack dear, dear boy! (_JACK clasps her in his arms_). Kiss me again, Jack.

JACK. Again and again till you tell me to leave off (_kissing her again_).

MRS. T. Let me look at you (_holding his head between her hands_). It is ten long years since I have seen you, my darling boy: and has it come back from China, a dear?

JACK. It has--all the way!

MRS. T. (_pulling his cheek affectionately_). And is it glad to get home?

JACK. Is it? _ain't_ it? Ah! after knocking about the world for ten years, you don't know how happy a fellow feels in getting back to his aunt and having his cheeks pulled about. By-the-bye, aunt, what d'ye think?--what with my prize-money, the sale of my commission, and one thing and the other, I find I've managed to scrape together a matter of £10,000.

MRS. T. Ten thousand? that's a large sum of money, my dear.

JACK. An awful lot, isn't it? the puzzle is, what I'm to do with it.

MRS. T. My advice is, invest in land; they say "Stick to the land, and the land will stick to you."

JACK. I know _mud_ will--at least it did in the Crimea.

MRS. T. My dear Jack, do be serious! Now that you are worth £500 a year--

JACK. Five hundred a year! I shall never spend the half of it.

MRS. T. Then get a _wife_ to help you.

JACK. A wife! me? what for?--why, my dear aunt, here are no end of clever people complaining of the over-population of the country, and you want me to-- (_Shaking his head._) No, no!

MRS. T. Well, well, we'll say no more about it; though it's a pity--a great pity!

JACK. A pity! what do you mean?

MRS. T. Nothing! a fancy, a dream of mine--that's all.

(_JESSIE is heard singing a snatch of a song without--runs in
from R. H._)

JESSIE (_running to MRS. TARLETAN and kissing her_). Good-morning, aunty dear. (_Suddenly, seeing JACK._) A stranger! Really, sir--I--I-- (_Courtesying._)

JACK (_bowing to JESSIE_). So do I, I'm sure, miss! very much indeed.

MRS. T. (_smiling_). "Sir" and "miss?" Why, Jack, have you forgotten Jessie?

JACK. Eh? what? little Jessie!

JESSIE. Cousin Jack!

JACK (_taking both JESSIE'S hands_). Dear, dear, when I remember what a tiny little mite you were ten years ago! about so high! (_measuring about a foot_). Why, I used to teach you A B C, didn't I? And now I suppose you're quite an accomplished young lady?

JESSIE. Tolerably so, I hope, cousin.

JACK. Then you deserve a prize; and here it is (_opening box on table, takes out a fan and presents it to JESSIE_). The reward of merit.

JESSIE. Oh, what a beautiful Chinese fan! Oh, thank you, cousin!

JACK. And perhaps our good aunt will give us our tea tonight out of her new porcelain service (_showing contents of box_).

MRS. T. A present for me, too! So you found time to think of me, dear boy?

JACK. Think of you! Do you remember this? (_taking small case from his breast-pocket and opening it_).

MRS. T. My photograph?

JACK. Which you gave me the night before I left England. You've never left me! You've shared all my hardships, all my dangers, all my triumphs! Didn't we enter Pekin together, sword in hand?

MRS. T. (_smiling_). _I_ enter Pekin!

JACK. Yes; rolled up in three of my flannel waistcoats to protect you.

JESSIE. Oh, Cousin Jack, I do so long to hear all your adventures.

JACK. Then you shall have them; not all at once; mustn't be greedy, little girl. Now for it. (_They seat themselves._) Ahem! (_in an impressive tone_). In order to make a first-rate brick--

MRS. T. _and_ JESSIE. A brick?

JACK. Don't interrupt me! I repeat, in order to make a first-rate brick they put it on the kiln and bake it. Well, in order to make a first-rate soldier they send him to India and bake _him_--that was my case.

MRS. T. Well, from India you went to the Crimea?

JACK. Yes; there I took to rum, diluted with snowballs and gunpowder.

JESSIE. Poor Cousin! how you must have suffered!

JACK. Tolerably; but we ate well--when we'd got anything to eat--and slept well when we hadn't to keep awake.

JESSIE. And you were never wounded?

JACK. Nothing to speak of. I got rather a warm one at the Alma, but luckily it was on the head.

JESSIE. Cousin Jack, I really feel quite proud of you! that I do.

JACK. Then allow me to thank you in the name of the British Army; allow the British Army to salute you! (_Kisses her. JESSIE joins MRS. TARLETAN, who has gone a few steps up the stage._)

JACK (_looking after JESSIE, and aside_). A remarkably nice little body. If ever I _should_ marry, I really--

JESSIE (_to MRS. TARLETAN, as they come forward_). No, indeed, aunt, there's no necessity for anything of the kind.

MRS. T. I beg your pardon, my dear. Jack is one of the family.

JACK. Of course I am! What's the matter?

MRS. T. Well, the fact is, we are not unlikely soon to find a husband for Jessie!

JACK. A husband! Who is he? what is he?

MRS. T. I only know that he is a _protégé_ of Doctor Jogtrot.

JACK. And who's Jogtrot?

MRS. T. Jessie's guardian; a retired physician--a very eminent man in the scientific world.

JACK. Oh! ah! (_Aside._) Confound Jogtrot!

_MARTHA appears at C., followed by DOCTOR JOGTROT._

MARTHA (_announcing_). Doctor Jogtrot. (_Disappears._)

_Enter DOCTOR JOGTROT at C.; black costume--white cravat, etc._

JOGTROT (_to MRS. TARLETAN_). Pardon me, madam, if I am late.

MRS. T. Don't apologize, doctor. (_Introducing._) My nephew, Captain Pepperpot--Doctor Jogtrot (_JOGTROT bows ceremoniously to JACK, who gives him a familiar nod in return_).

JOGTROT. I merely precede my esteemed young friend Mr. Chirper by a few minutes. Need I say I should not presume to present him as a competitor for the hand of this charming young lady (_bowing to JESSIE_), had I not discovered in his person qualities of the most solid description.

JACK. Solid--eh? I see! inclined to be stout--eh?

JOGTROT (_after a stare at JACK, and turning to MRS. T. again_). In fact, I am proud to say that Mr. Chirper is, in the strictest sense of the word, a serious young man!

JACK (_aside_). Wheugh! I sha'n't be able to stand much more of Jogtrot! I feel I sha'n't.

MRS. T. No doubt I shall grieve to part with Jessie; but as my nephew has left the army, I shall not be entirely alone.

JOGTROT (_to JACK_). You are a military man, sir?

JACK (_who has been showing a gradual irritation_). I _was_--till I left the army.

JOGTROT. Left the army? Allow me to congratulate you on your having done so, sir!

JACK (_trying to keep cool_). May I ask _why?_

JOGTROT (_in a supercilious tone_). Because, between ourselves, sir, I consider the military profession--

JACK (_bristling up_). Well, sir, what about the military profession? Anything to say _against_ the military profession? (_advancing on JOGTROT, who retreats_).

MRS. T. (_aside to JACK_). Don't be so pugnacious, Jack! Recollect, you're not at the siege of Sebastopol now!

JOGTROT (_overhearing them, eagerly_). The siege of Sebastopol?

MRS. T. Yes, doctor, my nephew was there during the whole campaign!

JOGTROT (_to JACK_). Now, sir, it may be in your power to furnish me with the most interesting statistical information. Can you form any tolerable accurate estimate of the number of projectiles of various kinds and dimensions discharged from the Russian batteries from the beginning of the siege to the end?

JACK. Frankly, my dear sir, I'm ashamed to say I never thought of counting them. (_Aside to MRS. TARLETAN._) I wish to speak with all possible respect of this retired chemist and druggist of yours, but he's simply an inflated idiot!

JOGTROT. But to return to Mr. Chirper.

JACK. Yes, give us a little more about Dicky!

JOGTROT (_astonished_). Dicky?

JACK. Yes, same thing! Chirpers are all Dickies--Dickies, Chirpers, don't you see? Go on!

_MARTHA, entering at L._

MARTHA. A gentleman, ma'am, sent in his card (_giving card to MRS. TARLETAN_).

MRS. T. (_reading_). "Mr. Christopher Chirper." Show the gentleman in. (_MARTHA goes to C., shows in CHIRPER, and then exits._)

_Enter CHIRPER, in a similar costume to JOGTROT._

JOGTROT (_meeting CHIRPER, and handing him forward and presenting him_). Allow me, Mrs. Tarletan--Mr. Christopher Chirper. Miss Jessie--Mr. Christopher Chirper. (_To JACK._) Sir, Mr. Christopher Chirper. (_CHIRPER bows very solemnly to each._)

JACK (_aside_). A cheerful-looking youth, very! one part waiter, three parts undertaker!

MRS. T. (_to CHIRPER_). The flattering terms in which Dr. Jogtrot has spoken of you more than suffice to insure you a hearty welcome!

CHIRP. (_bowing_). I trust, madam, I may merit the favorable opinion of my distinguished friend! Permit me to say, I am not one of those giddy, thoughtless butterflies who consume their mental and moral faculties in mundane futilities.

JACK (_after a long stare at CHIRPER--then aside_). He's not a man, he's a tract. (_Aside to JESSIE, as he goes towards table._) Lively boy, isn't he, Jessie? (_Sits and turns over leaves of an album._)

CHIRP. My mode of life is simplicity itself. I rise at seven--

JACK. Oh, confound it!--hang it!--dash it! (_turning over leaves rapidly_).

CHIRP. Breakfast at eight--a slice of bread, a cup of milk; that constitutes my heartiest meal. I then walk for an hour in the square; dine at six.

JACK (_who has come down again_). Another cup of milk? You ought to keep a cow, Chirper, in the square.

CHIRP. I then plunge into my favorite studies, till I retire to my pillow. Such is my life, madam.

JACK. And a very jolly one, too, I should say, Chirper.

CHIRP. Ladies, I must now request permission to retire. I am due at the Philotechnic Institution.

MRS. T. (_to CHIRPER_). You'll return to luncheon, I hope?

JACK. Of course he will. (_To CHIRPER._) Of course you will (_thrusting CHIRPER'S hat and umbrella into his hands_). I'll see there's an extra ha'porth of milk taken in for you (_putting CHIRPER'S hat on his head_).

[_CHIRPER and JOGTROT bow to JESSIE and exeunt at C., MRS.
TARLETAN going up stage with them._

MRS. T. (_coming down_). A very, very agreeable young man indeed.

JESSIE (_satirically_). Yes; so remarkably sprightly.

JACK. With about as much humor in him as a damp umbrella.

MRS. T. (_a little nettled_). I repeat, Mr. Chirper is a very agreeable person. I would put it to anybody--to the very first comer.

JACK. Would you? That's a bargain (_seeing BLUNT, who appears at C._). There's my man, Stephen Blunt--he'll do; you said the first comer. Here, Blunt (_BLUNT advances_), tell me what's your opinion of the gentleman who has just gone?

BLUNT (_aside to JACK, knowingly_). All right, captain, I haven't forgot. (_Aloud._) Well, sir, I think he's charming, delightful, first-chop.

JACK (_quickly_). No, no! I mean the other--the young one.

BLUNT. Well, sir, I think he's first-chop, too.

JACK. Ugh! triple dolt, brute, idiot. (_BLUNT about to speak._) Silence! get out! Stop, come and dress me! Ugh! pudding-head (_shakes his fist at BLUNT and hurries out L. H., followed by BLUNT_).

MRS. T. Why, what's the matter with the boy? such a temper all of a sudden.

JESSIE (_pouting_). No wonder; he sees well enough that you're tired of me--that you want to get rid of me--that you--oh! oh! oh!

[_Runs out crying at R._

MRS. T. (_astonished_). There's some mystery here I must clear up. Jessie! Jessie!

[_Hastens out after JESSIE at R._

JACK (_without, at L. H., very loud and angrily_). Hold your tongue! don't answer me! don't be insolent!--there, there! (_Enters hurriedly from L. H._) Wheugh! I'm better now I've let off some of the steam! ha, ha! Poor old Blunt (_stopping suddenly_). Stop, there's nothing to laugh at. I know I was a little bit out of temper--whose fault but his if I was?--with his infernal "first-chop;" but I'd no business to strike the poor fellow, with my foot especially; I ought to be ashamed of myself. _Ought_ to be? I _am!_ Here he comes (_seeing BLUNT, who enters at L. H., looking pale and serious; after a little hesitation JACK walks up to him_). Stephen Blunt, I ask your pardon; there, that's settled; now shake hands (_holds out his hand; BLUNT looks away_). I'm sorry, Blunt, _very_ sorry; would you like to kick _me?_ or shall I kick myself? I'll try if you like!

BLUNT. I'd rather you had blown my brains out, captain. If any other man in the world had--had--you know what I mean--I'd have knocked him down.

JACK (_quietly_). Then knock _me_ down!

BLUNT. As you are _now,_ sir? no! but in a fair stand-up fight I would!--at least I'd try!

JACK (_with sudden excitement_). What's that? Stand-up fight? this sort of thing? (_sparring and hitting out_).

BLUNT (_with a broad grin_). That's it, sir! If you'd only just let me knock you about for a round or two, I should feel like a man again!