Nio. Yes Ma’am! (Helen sits again)
Bea. She looks intelligent; this must be all pretence.
Car. She has better knowledge, perhaps, of home affairs.
Hel. (seated) What was the cause of the last War?
Nio. (C., confidently) A quarrel which broke out, upon the rights of which I would not speak, for it was ended nearly when I was born.
Hel. (turns slightly from Niobe) We don’t want to know your age.
Hat. How many years did it last?
Nio. Ten!
Hat. Oh, she is a treat!
Hel. Be quiet, Hattie! Can you play the Piano?