Scene II.—The same. Room in disorder. Two hats on the piano, a vest on the table, and two coats on as many chairs. A dressing-gown thrown carelessly on the sofa, and slippers on the floor near them. Aunt Rebecca and Mary enter, L.
Aunt Rebecca. And you have married since I saw you last; married happily, I hope. (They sit down, C.)
M. Yes; I couldn’t wish for a kinder or pleasanter husband. But between you and me, Aunt Rebecca, he has one fault that distresses me exceedingly.
A. R. And what is that?
M. He is so careless about his things. You have only to look about you, and you will see at once what I mean. I haven’t been in this room until now since he went to the store this morning. There are (looking at each as she speaks) two hats, two coats, dressing-gown, vest and slippers lying around. He is in such a hurry when he goes away, that he doesn’t notice anything about it, and when he comes home, I have put them all in their places, so I don’t think he realizes what an untidy appearance the room presents.
A. R. That is rather a disagreeable habit. Have you spoken to him about it?
M. (laughing). Spoken? Yes; I’ve delivered whole lectures on the subject.
A. R. And what does he say?
M. Oh, he makes light of it, and manages to change the subject whenever it is brought up. I don’t like to spoil the peace of our cosey home by scolding, but I feel as if something must be done.
A. R. I see how it is, Mary. You must declare war.