PHOEBE. I wish you very happy at the ball.
VALENTINE (sighing). Miss Susan, cannot we turn all these maps and horrors out till the vacation is over?
MISS SUSAN. Indeed, sir, we always do. By to-morrow this will be my dear blue and white room again, and that my sweet spare bedroom.
PHOEBE. For five weeks!
VALENTINE (making vain belief). And then—the—the dashing Mr. Brown will drop in as of old, and, behold, Miss Susan on her knees once more putting tucks into my little friend the ottoman, and Miss Phoebe—-Miss Phoebe——
PHOEBE. Phoebe of the ringlets!
(She goes out quietly.)
VALENTINE (miserably). Miss Susan, what a shame it is.
MISS SUSAN (hotly). Yes, it is a shame.
VALENTINE (suddenly become more of a man). The brave Captain Brown! Good God, ma'am, how much more brave are the ladies who keep a school.