awaiting some
communication which doesn't come. MRS. UPJOHN drums upon the table
with her fingers and LILY busies herself with re-arranging the
cushions on the settee._

JIMMIE.

[_After a while._] Hope I haven't dropped in too early?

LILY.

[_Settling her shoulders into the cushions._] Not a bit, dear.

JIMMIE.

It's nearly half-past twelve. I-- I _dashed_ round. [_After another
pause, unable to restrain herself further._] Any news? Any-any-anything
to tell me?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Abruptly._] Yes.

JIMMIE.

W-w-what----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lil's engaged.

JIMMIE.

Hah! [_Triumphantly._] Hah, hah! [_Clapping her hands and beating her
feet upon the floor._] Hah, hah, hah, hah! [_Jumping up and sitting
beside LILY and hugging and kissing her._] Oh! Oh! Oh! Y'm! Y'm! Y'm!
Oh, you humbugs! [_Rising and rushing at MRS. UPJOHN and embracing
her._] You solemn humbug, Ma! [_Leaving MRS. UPJOHN and singing and
dancing to the refrain sung in the previous Act._] "If you would only,
only love me;--" Ha, ha, ha! "If you would merely, merely say,----"
[_Her voice gradually dying away as she sees that the expression on
LILY'S face, and upon MRS. UPJOHN'S, doesn't alter._] "Wait but a
little-- [_standing still_] little-- for me----"

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Caustically._] Yes, you _'ad_ better wait a little; you'd better
wait till you 'ear _'oo_ she's engaged _to_.

JIMMIE.

Who-- to!

LILY.

[_Studying her nails._] _Whom_ to, mother.

JIMMIE.

Why, isn't it----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

No, it ain't. It's the Captain.

JIMMIE.

T-t-the Cap--! [_To LILY._] N-n-nicko? [_LILY nods. JIMMIE draws a
deep breath._] Oh-h-h-h!

LILY.

[_Calmly._] Nicko turned up here early this morning-- while Eddie--
while Lord Farncombe was with me, in fact-- and I-- we-- the three of
us-- we talked matters over, and-- and----

JIMMIE.

[_Her eyes starting out of her head._] Was there a row?

LILY.

Oh, don't be so curious, Jimmie. Poor Nicko has been after me for six
years. A girl must play the game, if she's at all decent and wishes to
preserve a shred of self-respect.

[_Again there is a pause and then JIMMIE silently resumes her seat in
the arm-chair._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moistening her lips with her tongue-- to JIMMIE._] 'Ow do you feel
about it?

JIMMIE.

[_Thoughtfully._] How do I feel about it? [_To LILY._] May I say?

LILY.

[_Coldly._] Certainly.

JIMMIE.

[_Rubbing the arm of her chair with the pal