Bartlett.—"Was there nothing to laugh at?"
Constance.—"For children! For vulgar, silly boys! For a gentleman, nothing!"
Bartlett, with rising wrath.—"Then I have no excuse, unless I say that I am no gentleman."
Constance.—"I shall not dispute you in anything; and I will leave you to the enjoyment of your mirth."
Bartlett.—"Very well. As you like. I am sorry to have offended you. I shall take care never to offend you again." Constance sweeps towards one door, at the threshold of which she pauses to look round and see Bartlett dashing her box of colours together as if it were his own, and thrusting it under his arm, seizing with a furious hand the canvas on the easel and his coat from the chair-back, and then rushing from the room. She drops her face into her hands and vanishes, and the next moment Mrs. Wyatt enters.
IV.
Mrs. Wyatt and General Wyatt.
Mrs. Wyatt.—"What is the matter with Constance, James? Have you been"— She goes up to the General and discovers his vigilance: "Asleep!" Waking him: "James, James! Is this the way you do the dragon, as you call it?"