hat_ MISS PHOEBE _has done; but
they believe there is a scandal in the Throssel family, and they will
not sleep happily until they know what it is._)

_End of Act II._

ACT III

THE BALL

_A ball, but not the one to which we have seen Miss Susan and Miss
Phoebe rush forth upon their career of crime. This is the third of the
series, the one of which Patty has foretold with horrid relish that it
promises to be specially given over to devilries. The scene is a
canvas pavilion, used as a retiring room and for card play, and through
an opening in the back we have glimpses of gay uniforms and fair ladies
intermingled in the bravery of the dance. There is coming and going
through this opening, and also through slits in the canvas. The
pavilion is fantastically decorated in various tastes, and is lit with
lanterns. A good-natured moon, nevertheless, shines into it benignly.
Some of the card tables are neglected, but at one a game of quadrille
is in progress. There is much movement and hilarity, but none from one
side of the tent, where sit several young ladies, all pretty, all
appealing and all woeful, for no gallant comes to ask them if he may
have the felicity. The nervous woman chaperoning them, and afraid to
meet their gaze lest they scowl or weep in reply, is no other than Miss
Susan, the most unhappy Miss Susan we have yet seen; she sits there
gripping her composure in both hands. Far less susceptible to shame is
the brazen Phoebe, who may be seen passing the opening on the arm of a
cavalier, and flinging her trembling sister a mischievous kiss. The
younger ladies note the incident; alas, they are probably meant to
notice it, and they cower, as under a blow._

HARRIET (_a sad-eyed, large girl, who we hope found a romance at her
next ball_). Are we so disagreeable that no one will dance with us?
Miss Susan, 'tis infamous; they have eyes for no one but your niece.

CHARLOTTE. Miss Livvy has taken Ensign Blades from me.

HARRIET. If Miss Phoebe were here, I am sure she would not allow her
old pupils to be so neglected.

(_The only possible reply for_ MISS SUSAN _is to make herself look as
small as possible. A lieutenant comes to them, once a scorner of
woman, but now_ SPICER _the bewitched_. HARRIET _has a moment's hope._)

How do you do, sir?

SPICER (_with dreadful indifference, though she is his dear cousin_).
Nay, ma'am, how do you do? (_Wistfully._) May I stand beside you,
Miss S