Dennis (bitterly). I don’t believe it will make the least difference even if he proves a “What is it.”
Steven (more bitterly). No, we fellows see how it will be! The moment “me lud” arrives, we shall be nowhere with you girls.
George. George Augustus Guelph Dunstan, Earl of Ferrol and Staunton! His very letter of acceptance has made Helen forget that it is cream—not sugar—that I “omit for want of space.”
Helen. Not at all! If you had been polite you would have given that cup to Rose. As for his lordling, do you for an instant suppose that I intend to compete as long as Rose and Amy are here? No, sir—I leave him to my betters, D. V.
Mrs. W. Well, really, I don’t think that either his titles or his being in the hands of an oculist is any excuse for making his time so indefinite (looks at letter). He will be charmed to pay me a visit, “by next Friday, or perhaps even sooner.” Now isn’t that a nice position to leave a hostess who wishes to make his stay quite as pleasant as his papa made mine when I was at the “Towers.” Imagine this betitled being getting into the Junction by the evening train and then having to walk over to Beechcroft.
Rose. Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely to see him coming in at the gate, so wet and muddy that Tiger would make the same mistake that he did with that poor minister?
Dennis. I hope, if he does have to foot it, he will not bring the usual number of parcels that the swells on the other side consider as necessary as those books which Charlie Lamb said “no gentleman should be without.”
Amy. Mrs. Wycherly, how can this man be two earls at once?
Steven. The English aristocracy finds it convenient to have an alias now and again.
Mrs. W. I’m not sure, Amy, but I believe it has something to do with his mother. I never could understand the peerage.