Mrs. Pampinelli. [Looking up suddenly] I beg your pardon, Nelly dear—I didn’t know you were speaking to me.
Mrs. Fell. I want to know if you can take me home in your car tonight?
Mrs. Pampinelli. Why, certainly, dear.
Mrs. Fell. My chauffeur has been deviling me for the past two days about some boxing-bee,—or wrestling-match or something that he wants to see; and I told him he could go if there were someone here to take me home.
Mrs. Pampinelli. I can take you, of course.
Mrs. Fell. All right, then, I can chase him; [She turns to the left.] I won’t hear any more about that. Oh, Mr. Spindler!
Spindler. Yes, mam? [Excuses himself to Mrs. Ritter, who steps into the left hallway and beckons with her finger for Jenny.]
Mrs. Fell. Would you mind doing a favor for a very old lady?
Spindler. [Who has hurried forward and is standing in the middle of the room, at attention.] You know what I told you out at the door? [Nelly gives a shriek, and giggles.]
Mrs. Fell. [Looking coyly over Spindler’s shoulder at Ritter] Oh, you hear that, Frederick Ritter? You have a rival on the premises. Mr. Spindler told me out at the door tonight,—that my will was his pleasure.