you any more?
CAPT. G. (More earnestly than the necessity demands.) I wasn't thinking
of your Mother. (Aside.) You little vixen!
Miss T. (Still looking out of the window.) Eh? Oh, I beg your par don. I
was thinking of something else.
CAPT. G. (Aside.) Well! I wonder what she'll say next. I've never known
a woman treat me like this before. I might be--Dash it, I might be an
Infantry subaltern! (Aloud.) Oh, please don't trouble. I'm not worth
thinking about. Isn't your Mother ready yet?
Miss T. I should think so; but promise me, Captain Gadsby, you won't
take poor dear Mamma twice round Jakko any more. It tires her so.
CAPT. G. She says that no exercise tires her.
Miss T. Yes, but she suffers afterward. You don't know what rheumatism
is, and you oughtn't to keep her out so late, when it gets chill in the
evenings.
CAPT. G. (Aside.) Rheumatism. I thought she came off her horse rather
in a bunch. Whew! One lives and learns. (Aloud.) I'm sorry to hear that.
She hasn't mentioned it to me.
Miss T. (Flurried.) Of course not! Poor dear Mamma never would. And
you mustn't say that I told you either. Promise me that you won't. Oh,
CAPTAIN Gadsby, promise me you won't!
CAPT. G. I am dumb, or--I shall be as soon as you've given me that
dance, and another--if you can trouble yourself to think about me for a
minute.
Miss T. But you won't like it one little bit. You'll be awfully sorry
afterward.
CAPT. G. I shall like it above all things, and I shall only be sorry
that I didn't get more. (Aside.) Now what in the world am I saying?
Miss T. Very well. You will have only yourself to thank if your toes are
trodden on. Shall we say Seven?
CAPT. G. And Eleven. (Aside.) She can't be more than eight stone, but,
even then, it's an absurdly small foot. (Looks at his own riding boots.)
Miss T. They're beautifully shiny. I can almost see my face in them.
CAPT. G. I was thinking whether I should have to go on crutches for the
rest of my life if you trod on my toes.
Miss T. Very likely. Why not change Eleven for a square?
CAPT. G. No, please! I want them both waltzes. Won't you write them
down?
Miss T. J don't get so many dances that I shall confuse them. You will
be the offender.
CAPT. G. Wait and see! (Aside.) She doesn't dance perfectly, perhaps,
but--
Miss T. Your tea must have got cold by this time. Won't you have another
cup?
CAPT. G. No, thanks. Don't you think it's pleasanter out in the veranda
|