Madam A sort of fine organdie.
Maude Swell?
Mrs. De S. Maudie! Would Madam Sateene propose anything else? She doesn't want you to look like a fright. Now, I think,–(pauses, listening). Why there is papa's voice!
Maude Papa, bless his old bones! Papa, come in here, quick! Hurry up!
(Mr. De Smythe comes in hastily.)
Mr. De S. What is it–what is it? Is Mamma worse?
Maude (in tragic attitude). I can't graduate!
Mr. De S. (with profound astonishment). Can't graduate? Can't graduate? Didn't you pass?
Maude (scornfully). Pass! That doesn't matter! My dress, my dress, my dress!
Mr. De S. (immensely relieved). Oh, your dress! Isn't it fine enough?