Mrs. All. (scrutinising the tables). Oh, it's nothing. I thought I'd left something of mine here; it was only a paper—I see I was mistaken, don't trouble.
Mrs. Ard. (producing Society Snippets). I expect it will be this. (Mrs. Allbutt's face reveals her ownership.) I took it up, not knowing it was yours. (Meaningly.) It has some highly interesting information, I see.
Mrs. All. (slightly demoralised). Oh, has it? I—I've not had time to glance at it yet. Pray don't let me deprive you of it. I dare say there's very little in it I don't know already.
Mrs. Ard. So I should have thought. (To herself, after Mrs. Allbutt has retired in disorder.) Fancy that woman trying to take me in like that, and no more in Society than I am—if so much! However, I've found her out before going too far—luckily. And I've a good mind to take in this Society Snippets myself—it certainly does improve one's conversation. She won't have it all her own way next time!
A TESTIMONIAL MANQUÉ.
(A Sketch from the Suburbs.)
The Argument.—Mr. Hotspur Porpentine, a distinguished resident in the rising suburb of Jerrymere, has recently been awarded fourteen days' imprisonment, without the option of a fine, for assaulting a ticket-collector, who had offered him the indignity of requiring him to show his season-ticket at the barrier. The scene is a Second-Class Compartment, in which four of Mr. Porpentine's neighbours are discussing the affair during their return from the City.
Mr. Cockcroft (warmly). I say, Sir—and I'm sure all here will bear me out—that such a sentence was a scandalous abuse of justice. As a near neighbour, and an intimate friend of Porpentine's, I don't 'esitate to assert that he has done nothing whatever to forfeit our esteem. He's a quick-tempered man, as we're all aware, and to be asked by some meddlesome official to show his season, after travelling on the line constantly for years, and leaving it at home that morning—why—I don't blame him if he did use his umbrella!