Mrs. Roberts: "And that fall of the skirt, Amy; that skirt is full of character!" She discovers Mr. Campbell behind the tea-urn. He has Mrs. Somers's light wrap on his shoulders, and her fan in his hand, and he alternately hides his blushes with it, and coquettishly folds it and pats his mouth in a gross caricature of Mrs. Somers's manner. In rising he twitches his coat forward in a similar burlesque of a lady's management of her skirt. "Why, where is Amy, Willis?"
Campbell: "Gone a moment. Some trouble about—the hot water."
Lawton: "Hot water that you've been getting into? Ah, young man, look me in the eye!"
Campbell: "Your glass one, Doctor?"
Young Mr. Bemis: "Why, my dear, has your father got a glass eye?"
Mrs. Bemis: "Of course he hasn't! What an idea! I don't know what Mr. Campbell means."
Lawton: "I've no doubt he wishes I had a glass eye—two of them, for that matter. But that isn't answering my question. Where is Mrs. Somers?"
Campbell: "That was my sister's question, and I did answer it. Have some tea, ladies? I'm glad you like my portrait, and that you think he's got my lovely turn of the head, and the way I hold my fan, and the character of my skirt; but I agree with you that it isn't half as pretty as I am."
The Ladies: "Oh, what shall we do to him? Prescribe for us, Doctor."
Campbell: "No, no! I want the Doctor's services myself. I don't want him to give me his medicines. I want him to give me away."