A. R. (continuing). There was that Fitznoodle, the puppy, trying to make himself agreeable to our little Agnes. To be sure, she’s old enough to have a beau, but I hope to goodness she won’t marry him. I wouldn’t if he was worth his weight in gold.
Mr. C. (again peeping out,—in a low tone). What a fate it would be for a man to marry such a woman as that! Though, for that matter, there won’t be much left of her, if she keeps on. She’s got her head most taken to pieces, already.
(Aunt R. puts on a very large night-cap, so that only a small portion of her face is visible. She suddenly discovers the other lamp. Mr. C. frequently peeps out.)
A. R. (in dismay). Where did that other lamp come from? I know it wasn’t here when I dressed for the party. (Looks around. Mr. C.’s head disappears, and the curtains are closed. She discovers a coat and vest on the chair near head of bed. Her eyes are fixed on them in horror. She wrings her hands.) Oh, there’s a man in the room, I know there is! I shall faint. (She suddenly considers that, under the circumstances, this would be improper.) If I only dared to go and look! (Stands a moment, with hands tightly clasped together, grows courageous, and slowly walks toward the bed, peeps through the curtain, and, darting back, screams.) Oh! oh! oh!
Mr. C. (parting the curtains a little). Don’t be so foolish, madam. I assure you it is all a mistake.
A. R. That’s what they always say. (Runs to door, L., looking back now and then, to see if she is pursued; screams:) Emmeline! James! Help! Murder! Thieves!
(Exit Aunt Rachel.)
(Mr. C. parts the curtain, and looks forth.)
Mr. C. Well, I must say, that’s rather curious. The mystery thickens. Pray who could that female be? I’m sure it’s no one that I ever saw before. Perhaps she’s left a handkerchief with her name written on it. I guess I’ll reconnoitre a little, as she has left me a light. (Goes to table, lifts, successively, the braids and masses of curls.) Here is part of her make-up. But there’s no name on it. In fact, there is nothing to give any clue to the mystery. But there’s one thing I can do. I’ll fasten the door so that I shall not be interrupted again. (Goes to door and locks it.) Now I believe I will retire once more, and see if I cannot get a little rest. And for fear I may be routed again, I will leave the light burning. (He goes to bed.)
(Curtain falls.)