Mrs. Toovey (to herself). I cannot think what has come to Theophilus. He has come down late for prayers every morning this week. Such a bad example for any household, and Cook is beginning to notice it—I could see it in her eye as she came in. He is so strange in his manner, too; if I did not know he was absolutely incapable of—but why did he secrete that abominable programme of Charles's? He said he kept it with a view to making inquiries, but I have heard nothing about them since. (Aloud, to Phœbe, who brings in dishes and two letters.) Oh, the post, Phœbe? it's late this morning. (Phœbe goes out.) One for Pa, and one for me—from Althea—it was certainly time she wrote. (Reading her letter.) "Delightful visit ... the Merridews so kind ... so much to see and do ... back on Monday ... no time for more at present." Not a word of where she's been or what she's seen—not at all the letter a girl should write to her mother! I wonder whom Pa's letter is from? (She turns it over.) What's this? "Eldorado Palace of Varieties" printed on the flap! Why, that's Charles's music-hall! Then Pa has been making inquiries after all. As Charles's aunt I have a right to—— (She is about to open the envelope.) No, I'd better not, I hear Pa's hum—he will be sure to tell me what they say.
Mr. Toovey enters (humming, to give himself a countenance). Ha, so you've had prayers without me? Quite right—quite right.
Mrs. Toov. (severely). Anything but right, Pa. You ought to have been down long ago. I heard you brushing your hair as I went out.
Mr. Toov. (feebly). It was very tiresome, my love, but my collar-stud got under the wardrobe, and I couldn't get it out for ever so long.
Mrs. Toov. Your things have taken to behave in a very extraordinary manner, Pa. Yesterday it was your braces!
Mr. Toov. I—I believe it was my braces yesterday. Ah well, we must bear with these little vexations—bear with them! (To himself.) A letter for me? From the Eldorado! It's the box! I—I hoped Mr. Curphew had forgotten.
[He thrusts it into his pocket unopened, in a flurry.
Mrs. Toov. Is there any reason why you shouldn't read your letter, Pa? It may be of importance.
Mr. Toov. I—I don't think it is, my love—particularly. It—it will keep till after breakfast. What is this—kedgeree? Ha! I've come down with quite an appetite—quite a famous appetite!
[He pecks at his kedgeree ostentatiously.