LORDS OF CREATION.
ACT I.
Scene—Elegant Drawing-Room. Door C., Sofa, R., Chairs, etc. Table, L. C.
(Enter Jennie, C., holding small bouquet in her hand.)
Jennie. Here is Mr. Eugene's bouquet, and now where is Mr. Eugene? Not here, of course, and I must be running all over the house to find him. All a body has to do is to wait on him, that is what he thinks! For he is a lord of creation, he is! And he must have his buttonhole bouquet, and his hair parted in the middle, and his mustache waxed, and everybody must bow down and worship him! But after all, he isn't as bad as his father. Oh! isn't he just awful! Dear me, what a terrible thing it must be to think yourself so superior, all on account of your sex!
Jim (looking in, C.). May I come in?
Jen. (looking over shoulder). Oh! You are here, are you? I might have known you would be!
Jim (coming down R. awkwardly). Yes, because I always come where you are, if I can.
Jen. (L.) Too bad, ain't it, I don't appreciate it any better? You haven't seen Mr. Eugene anywhere, have you?
Jim. Seen him? No! That is, not since two o'clock this morning, when I helped him up-stairs, and he called me his darling Jim.