MRS. TORRANCE. ‘John! Don’t mind him, Rogie.’
ROGER, haughtily, ‘I don’t.’
MR. TORRANCE. ‘Oh!’
ROGER. ‘But I wasn’t strutting.’
MRS. TORRANCE. ‘That dreadful sword! No, I would prefer you not to draw it, dear—not till necessity makes you.’
MR. TORRANCE. ‘Come, come, Ellen; that’s rather hard lines on the boy. If he isn’t to draw it here, where is he to draw it?’
EMMA, with pride, ‘At the Front, father.’
MR. TORRANCE. ‘I thought they left them at home nowadays, Roger?’
ROGER. ‘Yes, mater; you see, they are a bit in the way.’
MRS. TORRANCE, foolishly, ‘Not when you have got used to them.’