MRS. SWEET. Nonsense, Loo, it isn’t worth a tear, and you know I have always told you it is all your own fault. You don’t go the right way to work with him. I tell you what it is, my dear, you are too amiable by half, both at home and abroad; but don’t alarm yourself, there is no great harm done, if we can only keep the knowledge of all this ridiculous nonsense from our husbands; but judging from Mr. Short’s delightful air just now I am not quite sure that that will be altogether so easy, but mind, ma’am, no more persecutions, no more flirting.
MRS. SHORT. Only help me out of the scrape like a good dear creature, and if ever I expose myself to anything of the kind again, may I——
MRS. SWEET. (aside, making a sign to signify that their husbands are coming) Don’t be seen with that bouquet in your hand. Let us exchange! Take mine! (they exchange bouquets)
MRS. SHORT. (whispering) How shall we find an excuse for not going?
MRS. SWEET. (whispering) Never mind that now. Don’t be frightened—keep close to me, and if I give you a hint, be sure to take it.
Enter SWEET and SHORT, through door, R., in evening dress.
SHORT. (aside to SWEET) Be careful now what you say.
SWEET. (seeing the bouquet in his wife’s hands) There it is, under my very nose!
SHORT. (aside) What?