Nonsense, child; take it.
[Sophy, somewhat out of countenance, lays the robe over the back of the chair.
Mrs. Eden.
[Looking up.] Well, you are a lucky girl, Sophy!
Sophy.
Yes, I know it's very beautiful; [returning to the Duchess] but I—I think I'd rather not—
Duchess.
Tsch, tsch! help me. [The Duchess is standing before the cheval-glass, which conceals her from the audience. With Sophy's aid, she slips out of her dress and puts herself into the tea-gown, while she talks to Mrs. Eden.] Miss Eden is not well to-night, I am afraid. She didn't come into the drawing-room.
[Mrs. Eden rises and goes to the settee, upon which she partly kneels while she chatters to the Duchess.
Mrs. Eden.