Minnie. Oh, Auntie, you are a picture! You ought to be framed.
Horace. (Aside) And hung.
Aunt. You little flatterer. I think it is rather nice myself. Put on your cloak, dear. Is the cab ready?
Minnie. I don’t know—I don’t think that——
Aunt. What? Do you mean to say he hasn’t ordered a cab? Horace! Horace!
Minnie. Don’t disturb him. He is reading the “Astronomer.”
Aunt. The “Astronomer,” indeed! I’ll make him see stars! Horace! Horace! (At table. Minnie L.)
Horace. Oh, what is it? What is it?
Aunt. Have you ordered a cab?