Du P. What! Elise write to a man, not me!

MRS. H. The letter shall lie there; when he comes to me with his deceptive protestations I will casually call his attention to it. That will be sufficient answer to him, without a word from me. (Drops letter on the floor, thinking she places it on the table. Agitatedly walks up and down.) The wretch! And Joyce told him I was fat, and my seams were let out! Oh-oh! (Enter Joyce.) Miserable girl, when Mr. Cameron comes-I say when Mr. Cameron comes

JOYCE. Yes, ma'am.

MRS. H. Don't answer me in that manner. I say when Mr. Cameron comes

JOYCE. Yes, ma'am.

MRS. H. Joyce, I insist upon it that you will not answer me as though I were fifty years of age, weighed seven hundred and fifty pounds and had a desire to go on exhibition in a circus-tent. I say that when Mr. Cameron comes-Joyce, you will come to some miserable end, I am confident. [Exit.

JOYCE. Well, she's got a bee in her bonnet. My! but she was in a bad humor. Now I wonder why a woman is ever anything else than sweet tempered? And where has George John gone? Now I wonder what he wanted to see mistress for? But I must find his photograph before he sees me, for-(Sees the letter on the floor.) Eh! (Picks it up.)

Enter Elise, while Joyce is busy with the letter.

ELISE (aside). I see him--I see him wiz my eyes entaire zis • house, like he owns it-just turns ze handle of ze door. Ze wretch! And he say he haf a billet doux in ze English for me, writ on rose papier. (Sees Joyce.) A rose lettaire in her hand! Ah, Achille, zis is where your billet doux goes, eh? I will scratch her. [Exit.

JOYCE. A lovely pink envelope (smelling it). What heav enly scent-Frangipanni; it's like walking in a cemetery. And addressed, "Mr. John."

Du P. Mistaire John! Ah, Elise! you send lettaires to Mistaire John by ze wash man! Oh!

JOYCE. Mr. John! What Mr. John? there is only one-my John-George John! And in a lady's handwriting too!

Du P. A lady's handwriting! Elise's! I will assassinate Mistaire John.

JOYCE. He wanted to see mistress-is it possible mistress has fallen in love with him?-is this why she is cool to Mr. Cameron? What! she got me out of the room-she had this letter for John, and he dropped it--she was nervous, all mixed up-oh, George John, my dear, sends me his photograph, does he? (Enter, Elise, unobserved. Stands near door.) I have not lost that photograph, mistress has taken it! (Puts letter in pocket.) Ah, if I had George John here (working her hands).

ELISE (aside). So she puts in her pocket ze lettaire! I will find Achille and in zis house. (Rushes out and knocks against George John who enters.)

GEORGE J. Well, well! Who's your cyclone, Joyce?
JOYCE. Ah!

Du P. So zat is Mistaire John!

GEORGE J. Who was the girl in this room?

JOYCE. Me-I'm the only girl here.

Du P. Let me get hold of Elise (shaking fist).

GEORGE J. I suppose it was the chamber-maid. I say JOYCE (running to George John and boxing his ears). How dare you contradict me, even if you have another you love. Leave this house! Go! you're a villain-a murderer-a washee-washee!

GEORGE J. Why-why

JOYCE. GO! Go home and cheat with the starch in your collars-don't iron the backs of your shirts. Go (pushing him out, then sinking into a chair)! Oh, I'll sue him for assault and battery-he hurt my feelings. Oh, oh, oh (weeping)! Enter Billy, the page, with a pink note in his hand. Joyce, not seeing him, goes out.

BILLY. Well, as me name's Gallegher this goes beyant anything, wurra, wurra, wurra. Here's a lady afther bein' so dead in love with the likes o' me she writes a letther an' flings it into the windy o' my room. (Reads letter.) "Swatest and darlin'est jewel"--that's me, avick. (Reading.) "Me heart's clean went out o' me b-u-z-z-i-m, oh, yes, buzzim, an' I'll see yez this afternoon an' tell yez it to yer face. Yer a blessid angel an' I am yours." Well, it's quare! How does she know she's my angel, at all, at all? The like o' me, now. Well, I knew I was a broth of a boy, but niver a bit did I know I was an angel, though I've a full blood cousin of me own

that's a policeman. Arrah! (Enter Elise.) Here is mistress dressmaker! Can it be her that's afther writin'

ELISE. Monsieur, vat has your hand hold?

BILLY. Eight fingers, two thumbs, a wart and a letther.
ELISE. That lettaire ?-you read it?

BILLY. Is it afther bein' yours, me dear?

BILLY. We! Does it belong to both of us?-we? then come to me arrums.

ELISE. Monsieur--I do not comprendez-I do not stand under you.

BILLY. Yer not a door mat, darlint.

ELISE. I understand not. I come here-madame wish to see me and

BILLY.

You sent me this letther beforehand?

Du P. So this is Mistaire John! How many is he?
ELISE. I wish that lettaire-it is wrong zat you keep it.
Du P. She writes lettaire to him!

BILLY. It is my letther, me jewel, an' I'll be afther wearin' it forninst me heart.

BILLY. I accept, it sames to me.

ELISE. You refuse to restore ze lettaire. I will search zis house for Achille.

[Exit. BILLY. A keel! Does she take the house for a ship-yard? Du P. (coming out.*) Mistaire, zat lettaire, I demand it of you.

BILLY. Demand and be blessed, and fwhat'll ye get by that? How did the like o' ye get in here?

Du P. I valk me in, promenade, passé through ze door.
I ask you for ze lettaire.

BILLY. Ye have the right to do all the askin' ye plazc.
Du P. You refuse! Then I will fight you ze duel.

Enter Joyce.

JOYCE. I've seen her, I've seen her--she's that French Elise, and she's waiting in the house to see him after writing him a letter. Oh!

Du P. Precisely, Mademoiselle, and she see him here, in zis vera room.

JOYCE. She did, she has seen him here?

While Du Plane is hiding it is left to the player's judgment as to his bobbing up and down. Of course he must keep out of sight of the others-all his lines during that time being "asides."

BILLY. Be aisy, Joyce, darlint. She didn't say more nor a few words. I didn't know ye'd care, me jewel. I'm a broth of a boy.

JOYCE. Care! oh, Mr. Du Plane, you are a neighbor and I know you have courted her. Go after her, and lick him; She's flying through the house in search of him.

Du P. Ah! Parbleu! Ah!

[Exit.

BILLY. And I'll parboil the pair of yez, for doin' that

same.

Enter John Cameron.

[Exit.

CAMERON. What's the row, what's the row here? Good gracious! whatever is the matter?

JOYCE (jumping up and curtseying). Yes, sir, yes, she said if you called

CAMERON. Why are you so agitated, my good girl?

JOYCE. I was-oh, it runs in my family. I-I will tell my mistress. (At the door, softly.) It's mistress, not Elise, who is in the fault; Elise is only a blind. Poor deluded Mr. Cam[Exit.

eron.

CAMERON. What? What was that she said? I did not catch her exact words. But it sounded like "poor deluded Mr. Cameron." What nonsense-merely my nervousness, I am here to learn my fate. I know that Edythe loves me and she does not know it. Why I loved her long before she married Harry Hinsdale, as she knows well. (Looks at clock.) Pshaw! Is it possible I am late? And she has an engagement at half past five. However, she is at home, and she shall see me. (Looks about him.) Here are all her pretty things, her bric-a-brac, her books. They say the books of a woman disclose her mind. (Takes up a book.) Here are the Sonnets of Shakspeare, that alphabet of love, as it has been called. Let me see the particular Sonnet she has marked with this piece of paper. Is it the one that says, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no (opening book), it is—” Hallo! what have we here? A photograph! A young man! a date written on it, that of yesterday, and "To my darling." Is it possible that this is the clue to her treatment of my suit? Oh, this is, indeed, too much (thrusting picture in book, which he throws upon table, and walking up and down

the stage). To think that it should come to this! To think what a devoted slave I have been, only to find her unworthy! Let her come to me that I may upbraid her, accuse her-yet have I the right? Let me go to the garden for awhile; I am in no condition to see her now.

Enter Joyce.

[Exit.

JOYCE. My mistress will be here in a minute, sir. CAMERON. So will I. JOYCE. There's something the matter with everybody, but me. And how nervous she was when I told her Mr. Cameron was here! wait till I tell her my feelings about her and George John and

Enter Mrs. Hinsdale.

MRS. H. Mr. Cameron-why where is he?

JOYCE (coolly). In the garden. Said he'd be here in a minute.

JOYCE (haughtily). That hear you I do, ma'am, being blessed with ears, which runs in my family.

[Exit.

MRS. H. What is the matter with the girl? She acts as though she were stage-struck. And why does not Elise come?-Stay! I will look at him from the garden-door (going left and looking off). There he is, walking up and down and slashing the roses with his cane, why-(Looks at table.) The note is gone! He has been here, found and read it and it has disconcerted him. Good! He is compelled to see me, having made an engagement to do so; and I will not say a word about the note. How he must wonder how it came to be here-and he will not dare to ask. And this is the man who for years professed to love me, the man I could have cared for but for my father's senseless opposition to him because of his small bank account. Elise is late (looking at clock). He comes in time-I will set the clock back. (Sets it back a half hour.) Now I am ready for him (seating herself, and fanning vigorously). Who can the creature be who writes on pink envelopes perfumed with Frangipanni? (Muses.)

Enter Cameron, unobserved.

CAMERON (aside). There she is, my ideal of a woman! How