, with one of the young
Ladies on each arm_). Well, there, say no more about it--so long as it
wasn't at Me, I don't mind! [_They pass on._

_A Wheezy Matron_ (_in a shawl_). She was a prettier byby in the fice
than any o' the others--sech a lydylike byby she was--we never 'ad
no bother with her! and never, as long as I live, shall I forgit her
Grandpa's words when he saw her settin' up in her 'igh cheer at tea,
with her little cheeks a marsk o' marmalade. "LOUISER JYNE," he sez,
"you mark my words--she's the on'y reelly _nice_ byby you ever 'ad, or
_will_ ave!"

_Her Comp_. An' he wasn't given to compliments in a general way,
neither, _was_ he?

_Anxious Mother_. I can't make him out. Sometimes I think he means
something, and yet,--Every morning we've been here, he's come up to
her on the Pier, and brought her a carnation inside of his 'at.

_Her Confidante_. Then depend upon it, my dear, he has intentions. _I_
should say so, certingly!

_The Mother_. Ah, but CARRIE tells me she's dropped her glove,
accidental-like, over and over again, and he's always picked it
up,--and handed it back to her. I reelly don't know what _to_ think!

_The Confidante_. Well, I wouldn't lose heart--with the moon drawin'
on to the full, as it is!

_A Seaside Siren_ (_conscious of a dazzling complexion--to a
suburban Ulysses_). I wish I could get brown--I think it's so awfully
becoming--but I never can!

_Ulysses_. Some people _are_ like that. On'y turn _red_, you know,
specially the nose--catches 'em _there_, y'know!

_The Siren_. I'm obliged to you, I'm sure! Is that meant to be
personal?

_Ulysses_. Oh, I wasn't thinking of _you_ when I said that.

_The Siren_. You're very complimentary. But do tell me--am _I_ like
that? (_She presents her face for his inspection_.) Candidly, now.

_Ulysses_ (_conscientiously_). Well, I don't notice anything
particular--but, you see, colours don't show up by moonlight.

[_The Siren coldly intimates that her Mother will be
waiting supper for them._

_An Habitue_. Some people will tell yer, now, that Margit's _vulgar_.
They must be precious 'ard to please, that's all! I'm as partickler
as what most are, and I can assure yer if there was anythink o' _that_
sort about, I shouldn't come down 'ere reglar, season after season,
like I do!

_His Companion_. In course not--and no more shouldn't I, neither!

_ALONG THE ESPLANADE._

_Female Voice_ (_from the recesses of a glazed shelter_