Drahomir.—True—and I destroyed the dam of my modesty, and will add that one of the selectmen of the village made a speech in my honor. It seems to me that he made some mention of a monument which they would erect for me. But pray believe that the fire was quenched by George and his people. I think they ought to erect two monuments.
Czeska.—I know that you are worthy of each other.
Stella.—Thank God that you have not met with some more serious accident.
Drahomir.—I have met with something very pleasant—your sympathy.
Czeska—You have mine also—as for Mr. Pretwic, I have a bone to pick with him.
George—Why, dear madam?
Czeska.—Because you are a bad boy. (To Stella and Drahomir.) You had better go to the Prince, and let us talk for a while.
Stella.—Mother, I see you wish to flirt with Mr. Pretwic.
Czeska.—Be quiet, you giddy thing. May I not compete with you? But you must remember, you Mayflower, that before every autumn there is a spring. Well, be off!
Stella (to Drahomir).—Let us go; Papa is in the garden and I am afraid that he is feeling worse. What a pity it is that the doctor is not here.