Very well, then. When to-night we appear at the Durnstone Athenæum, unknown to dear Papa, on the arms of Major Tarver and Mr. Darbey, I consider that we shall be equally wicked. Oh, how can we be so wrong?
Sheba.
Well, we’re not wrong yet. We’re only going to be wrong; that’s a very different matter.
Salome.
That’s true. Besides, there’s this to remember—we’re inexperienced girls and have only dear Papa. But oh, now that the Ball is to-night, I repent, Sheba, I repent!
Sheba.
I sha’n’t do that till to-morrow. But oh, how I shall repent to-morrow!
Salome.
[Taking an envelope from her pocket, and almost crying.] You’d repent now if you had seen the account for the fancy dresses.
Sheba.