Mrs. G. (promptly). It is on the table.
Mr. G. (with a smile of exultation). Sit down, gentlemen. Mr. Huntly will take a seat on my right (indicating it), and Mr. Farwell on my left (indicating it). I have provided a dinner to-day, gentlemen (sharpening the knife preparatory to carving), which is an especial favorite with me—I mean roast turkey. (Lifting the cover, his astonished gaze rested on an uncooked turkey. He lifts, successively, the covers of the other dishes, and sees uncooked squashes, and potatoes with their skins on.)
Mr. G. (sternly to his wife). Will you explain the meaning of this, madam?
Mrs. G. (smiling blandly). Certainly. Bridget left me yesterday afternoon, by your direction. I have done what I could toward supplying her place. I am truly sorry if the dinner is not to your taste.
Mr. G. What do you intend by this insult which you have put upon me in my own house?
Mrs. G. (fanning herself). You are a little excited, Mr. Grover. You remember that I warned you I should not supply Bridget’s place.
Mr. G. (angrily). So it seems you want to rule me.
Mrs. G. Not at all. I only object to being ruled.
Mr. G. It’s the same thing, madam. You would like to have me become a miserable, hen-pecked husband. But that will never happen. (Turning to guests) Gentlemen, I regret that circumstances have conspired to render useless the invitation I gave you to dine with me. I cannot, in such case, invite you to stay longer, but shall renew the invitation at a more convenient opportunity.
Mrs. G. (turning toward them). I, too, shall be glad to see you, gentlemen, and hope, on the next occasion, to offer you a more attractive collation. That, however, depends entirely on whether my husband decides to leave the management of the household where it belongs—in my hands.