Dora. I'm not sure about the making; for the wearing, we can all wear them—out, before anybody expects it.
Egypt (aside, to L., piteously). Indeed I have mended that torn flounce quite neatly; look if I haven't!
L. (aside, to Egypt). All right; don't be afraid. (Aloud to Dora.) Yes, doubtless; but you know that is only a slow way of undressing.
Dora. Then, we are all to learn dress-making, are we?
L. Yes; and always to dress yourselves beautifully—not finely, unless on occasion; but then very finely and beautifully too. Also, you are to dress as many other people as you can; and to teach them how to dress, if they don't know; and to consider every ill-dressed woman or child whom you see anywhere, as a personal disgrace; and to get at them, somehow, until everybody is as beautifully dressed as birds.
(Silence; the children drawing their breaths hard, as if they had come from under a shower bath.)
L (seeing objections begin to express themselves in the eyes). Now you needn't say you can't; for you can: and it's what you were meant to do, always; and to dress your houses, and your gardens, too; and to do very little else, I believe, except singing; and dancing, as we said, of course; and—one thing more.
Dora. Our third and last virtue, I suppose?
L. Yes; on Violet's system of triplicities.
Dora. Well, we are prepared for anything now. What is it?