Mrs. Lang.—Alma, is that your old Surah? What did you do to it?
Mrs. Lister.—They do dye things so wonderfully nowadays!
Scene.—A Verandah in front of Mr. McCullom McIntosh’s house. Mrs. McCullom McIntosh seated, with fancy work. To her, enter Mr. William Jans and Mr. Milo Smith.
Mrs. McIntosh (with effusion).—Oh, Mr. Jans, I’m so delighted to see you! And Mr. Smith, too! I never expect to see you busy men at this time in the afternoon. And how is Laura?—and Millicent? Now don’t tell me that you’ve come to say that you can’t go fishing with Mr. McIntosh to-morrow! He’ll be so disappointed!
Mr. Jans.—Well, the fact is—
Mrs. McIntosh.—You haven’t been invited to be one of poor Rhodora Boyd’s pall-bearers, have you? That would be too absurd. They say she’s asked a regular party of her old conquests. Mr. Libriver just passed here and told me—Mr. Lister and John Lang and Dexter Townsend—
Mr. Jans.—Yes, and me.
Mrs. McIntosh.—Oh, Mr. Jans! And they do say—at least Mr. Libriver says—that she hasn’t asked a man who hadn’t proposed to her.