before we talk of gentleness I must insist on
knowing what it is you told Jem that you would not let me hear.

SIR W.: The fact is, my dear----(_Coughs._)

LADY FLO: Tell me what the fact is, and at once, my dear!

SIR W.: The facts are, dear child----(_Coughs again._)

LADY FLO (_irritated_): Don't cough!

SIR W. (_continues coughing_): Well! it's a long story.

LADY FLO: Haven't you a lozenge?

SIR W.: Never mind the lozenge! The story, I say, is a long one.

LADY FLO: Long or short, I must hear it!

SIR W.: I'll tell it to you, later on.

LADY FLO: I begin to suspect you can't tell me all about it,
simply--because you _can't_!

SIR W.: Oh! I can! I could!

LADY FLO: Oh, no, you can't. You couldn't, and you ought to be ashamed
of yourself!

SIR W.: You are going just a little bit too far, Florence.

LADY FLO: Oh, no; it was _you_ who went too far. Why, I knew it by the
look on your face the instant I came into the room!

SIR W. (_aside_): She is going very much too far. (_Aloud_) Nonsense!

LADY FLO: I beg pardon?

SIR W.: I repeat "Nonsense." And _ridiculous nonsense_!

LADY FLO: Then, how dare you?

SIR W.: You forget yourself strangely.

LADY FLO: Do not attempt to adopt your nephew's manner to his wife
towards me!

SIR W.: It is _you_, my love, who are unfortunate in your choice of a
manner this morning; and although pettishness in a young girl like Kitty
has a certain little charm of its own----

LADY FLO: Yes!

SIR W.: When a woman has reached your time of life----

LADY FLO (_furious_): Yes!!!

SIR W.: Petulance sits remarkably ill upon her--upon _you_, my dear----

LADY FLO: When a man has reached your time of life and remains as great
a fool----

SIR W. (_furious_): A fool?

LADY FLO: Yes! As great a fool and an idiot as ever----

SIR W.: I was always aware you had the very devil of a temper, Florence,
and now, after fifteen years of married life, I make the discovery that
you can be excessively--ahem!--unladylike.

LADY FLO: It's highly amusing to hear you express an opinion on the
subject of how a lady should behave. When one remembers your sisters,
one is inclined to believe you were not, perhaps, brought up in a school
of the very highest standard.

SIR W.: You insult my sisters! _(Becomes much excited and takes her by
the arm.)_ Repeat that again!

(_Enter JEM. Stands in amazement._)

JEM: For Heaven's sake, what _is_ the matter?

SIR W.: Ask your Aunt Florenc