nds and I have each time moved
out of the house I occupied with each on the day after losing him.

SERVANT. You know what trouble is, m'm, to have lost two husbands.
Grippe, m'm? [_Giving her another parcel._ HOWES _to table up stage._

MRS. LORRIMER. Not exactly. Another kind of epidemic. The law, Howes.
[HOWES _gives parcel._ MRS. LORRIMER _addresses it from a visiting
card. Enter_ MAID _with_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW.

MAID. I will tell Miss Wolton. [_Exit._ FANSHAW, ETHEL _and_ MRS.
LORRIMER _greet each other._

FANSHAW. How do you do? [_Shakes hands._ MRS. LORRIMER _motions with
her head a dismissal to the_ SERVANT, _and he gets boxes and goes
out._

ETHEL. [_Goes to sofa and sits._] Do you think Marion will see us?

MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know, I'm sure. She is with her mother.

ETHEL. You don't mean--

MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, but she isn't a bit like she was yesterday. She's
crying like a child, poor thing,--what she's gone through!

FANSHAW. Have you seen the papers? [_Has large bundle of them._

MRS. LORRIMER. No.

FANSHAW. It's in all of them, and some have big pictures.

ETHEL. Yes, my dear, with all of us in. Marion in a low-necked dress.
You're a sight, but my picture's rather good.

FANSHAW. [_Who has gotten papers from coat-tail pocket._] Perhaps
you'd like to see them.

MRS. LORRIMER. No, no; put them away quick. I'll see them home. I take
every blessed paper. [FANSHAW _up to table where he puts hat and
papers_.

ETHEL. What are you doing--sending back wedding presents? [_Crosses._

FANSHAW. Oh, I say, is that necessary?

ETHEL. I don't believe I would; there are lots of things she's been
dying to have.

MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Ethel!

FANSHAW. Yes, why couldn't she--er--forget--er--overlook--er--any old
thing with some of them--I mean those she wants? [_Turns up, looking
at presents on table._

MRS. LORRIMER. Well, there are some things I should think she'd be
glad to send back. After all, twelve dozen oyster forks are too many
for a small family like a newly married couple.

ETHEL. How many sugar spoons did she get?

MRS. LORRIMER. Thirteen, which to say the least, is an unlucky
number ... [_Rises, puts arm about_ ETHEL _and comes left._] and
there's that bankrupt stock of piano lamps. [_Crosses to sofa; sits on
sofa with_ ETHEL. FANSHAW _comes down._

ETHEL. [_Half laughing._] That's true! By the way, have you sent back
Mrs. Bayley's presents yet?

MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, why?

ETH