in't going to
write the article myself, you know. It's my sister's husband's
friend--she's real literary enough! She's got a typewriter.

GEORGIANA. One can't do everything in this world, Bella, and you must be
content with being a real _artiste_ in your own profession.

BELLA. Yes, I will say without boasting, so to speak, I don't believe
there's a soul in New York who can make hair go further and wear less,
than me! [_Laughs heartily._] What's this room? Of course it's one of
them Louis, I suppose, ain't it? [_Looks around the room._] Let me see,
is it Louis Eleventimes? I saw Henry Irving in that, it was fine!

GEORGIANA. No, Bella, Henry Irving has never been in this room, and it's
Louis XVI.

BELLA. Oh, of course! [_Writing._] How well you're looking, Miss
Georgiana. Look to me kinder as if you thought good news was in the
wind!

[_She glances at her surreptitiously, but down again quickly,
frightened._

GEORGIANA. Why, Bella?

BELLA. Oh, that's just my idea, that's all. What might this picture be?
Shall we say--er--er--Michael Ange?

GEORGIANA. [_Suppressing a smile._] No, that is a Van Dyck.

BELLA. Of course! I might have known! [_Writing._] This entire room is a
fine bit, ain't it? All Louis--[_She looks back in her book._] 16, as a
piece, I suppose?

GEORGIANA. Yes.

BELLA. So I see! My! How I love all this kind of thing. I couldn't live
without a lot o' bric-a-brah lying around sort of careless like and
undusted. These tapestries are real, I presume?

GEORGIANA. Yes.

BELLA. I thought so! I got a beautiful piece of tapestry over my
washstand, hand-painted, and all the faces and clothes outlined in
chenille cross-stitch by the Singer Sewing Machine--but it's not quite
the same as yours.

GEORGIANA. It must be very pretty.

BELLA. Oh, it adds a touch! Mr. Gootch gave it to me for an engagement
present.

GEORGIANA. Does Mr. Gootch ever speak of Mr. Coleman?

BELLA. He worships him--naturally, as Mr. Coleman got wounded in both
arms carrying him to a safe place! Mr. Gootch says as there wasn't a man
in the regiment braver or as popular as Mr. Coleman. Don't you think,
perhaps, sometimes, maybe, Miss Georgiana--

[_She stops near_ GEORGIANA.

GEORGIANA. Maybe what--?

BELLA. Oh, I dunno--I--

GEORGIANA. [_Rising and going to the sofa._] Come, Bella, we must get on
with your article.

[_A pause._

BELLA. [_Looking about._] Why, you haven't got a cosy corner, have you?
And yet you s