Lizzie. The girls have been laughing at me, and making fun of my hoop. They say mine is ugly and homely.
Mr. L. Never mind; perhaps we’ll have a new one some time.
Lizzie. Mayn’t I have one now? Mr. Grant has one left—a real pretty one.
Mr. L. Not now, Lizzie; not now. I’ll think of it.
(Lizzie goes out crying, followed by her mother. A friend of Mr. L. enters.)
Friend. Hello, Albert! What’s up?
Mr. L. Nothing in particular. Take a chair.
Friend. How’s business?
Mr. L. Good.
Friend. Did you go to the club last night?