[Left talking.
A Forlorn Hope.—The Dowager. “Now, you’ve got all the girls off your hands so successfully, except poor Maria, you ought to give her a chance.”
My Lord. “Yes—a—give a ball—a—or a garden party—a——”
My Lady. “Oh, poor Maria’s not worth a ball—nor even a garden party. We might give an afternoon tea!”
“I say, Nell, the Dad says that he remembers that old boy when he hadn’t a shirt to his back, and now he has thousands.”
“Good gracious, how extravagant! And how hot!!”