[In a whisper to Salome.] Salome, I don’t quite understand her—but I like Aunt.

Salome.

So do I. But she’s not my idea of a weary fragment or a chastened widow.

The Dean.

My dear Georgiana, I rejoice that you meet me in this affectionate spirit, and when—pardon me—when you have a little caught the tone of the Deanery——

Georgiana.

Oh, I’ll catch it; if I don’t the Deanery will a little catch my tone—the same thing.

[Sheba laughs.

The Dean.

[Reprovingly.] Toy-child!