Mrs. S.—What is it, my dear one? What do you want?
P.—May I play with the silver inkstand?
Mrs. S.—If you'll take great care of it, yes. (To Mrs. R.) Did you ever hear such ideas as the child has? Such an active mind, never quiet!
Mrs. R.—(Aside.) Well, perhaps now she's got the inkstand she'll be quiet.
Mrs. S.—You have no idea what quaint things she says sometimes. You must get me to tell you some of them next time we meet.
Mrs. R.—Oh, thank you! Then you think we shall be able to get the hall?
P.—(Goes up to Mrs. Roberts and pulls her cloak.) Why do you wear this ugly cloak?
Mrs. S.—Oh, really, Petsy! I don't know what Mrs. Roberts will think! Such a pretty cloak, too.
P.—No, it isn't. It's hideous, and so is her bonnet. It's like Miss Jane's cloak in the poem.
Mrs. R.—In the poem?