! (Aloud.) Very well, Mamma.

Exit, and reappears, after five minutes, flushed, and rubbing her
fingers.

Miss D. You look pink. What has happened?

Miss T. (In a stage whisper.) A twenty-four-inch waist, and she won't
let it out. Where are my bangles? (Rummager on the toilet-table, and
dabs at her hair with a brush in the interval.)

Miss D. Who is this Captain Gadsby? I don't think I've met him.

Miss T. You must have. He belongs to the Harrar set. I've danced with
him, but I've never talked to him. He's a big yellow man, just like a
newly-hatched chicken, with an enormous moustache. He walks like this
(imitates Cavalry swagger), and he goes "Ha--Hmmm!" deep down in his
throat when he can't think of anything to say. Mamma likes him. I don't.

Miss D. (Abstractedly.) Does he wax that moustache?

Miss T. (Busy with Powder-puff.) Yes, I think so. Why?

Miss D. (Bending over the bodice and sewing furiously.) Oh,
nothing--only--Miss T. (Sternly.) Only what? Out with it, Emma.

Miss D. Well, May Olger--she's engaged to Mr. Charteris, you
know--said--Promise you won't repeat this?

Miss T. Yes, I promise. What did she say?

Miss D. That--that being kissed (with a rush) with a man who didn't wax
his moustache was--like eating an egg without salt.

Miss T. (At her full height, with crushing scorn.) May Olger is a
horrid, nasty Thing, and you can tell her I said so. I'm glad she
doesn't belong to my set--I must go and feed this man! Do I look
presentable?

Miss D. Yes, perfectly. Be quick and hand him over to your Mother, and
then we can talk. I shall listen at the door to hear what you say to
him.

Miss T. 'Sure I don't care. I'm not afraid of Captain Gadsby.

In proof of this swings into the drawing-room with a mannish stride
followed by two short steps, which Produces the effect of a restive
horse entering. Misses CAPTAIN GADSBY, who is sitting in the shadow of
the window-curtain, and gazes round helplessly.

CAPTAIN GADSBY. (Aside.) The filly, by Jove! 'Must ha' picked up that
action from the sire. (Aloud, rising.) Good evening, Miss Threegan.

Miss T. (Conscious that she is flushing.) Good evening, Captain Gadsby.
Mamma told me to say that she will be ready in a few minutes. Won't you
have some tea? (Aside.) I hope Mamma will be quick. What am I to say to
the creature? (Aloud and abruptly.) Milk and sugar?

CAPT. G. No sugar, tha-anks, and very little milk. Ha--Hmmm.

Miss T. (Aside.) If he's going t