nce was trooping in, and seating itself upon the
beds, and by frantic clapping clamored for the entertainment to begin.
Gowan opened the show, and took the stage in the character of Miss
Monica Morton, an elderly spinster. Her make-up was very good,
considering the limited resources of the company. Some cotton wool did
service for white hair neatly arranged under a boudoir cap; her dress
(borrowed from Noreen, who was a head taller than Gowan) fell to her
ankles; she wore spectacles, and wrinkles had been carefully painted
across her forehead. Bertha, a forward chit of a maidservant (servants
on the stage invariably assume a cheekiness of manner that would never
be tolerated by any employer in private life), bounced in and handed her
a letter, and stood making grimaces to the audience while her
mistress--very foolishly--read its contents aloud. It ran thus:

"11 PARK LANE,
"MAYFAIR.

"DEAREST MONICA,

"We are sending Dorothea down to you by the first train in the
morning, and we beg you will keep a strict eye on her. An
individual named Montague Ponsonby has been paying her great
attentions, and we wish to break off the attachment. He is well
born, but absolutely penniless, and as Dorothea will some day
be an heiress, we do not wish her to throw herself away upon
him. Please do your best to prevent any such folly.

"Your affectionate sister,
"ELIZABETH STRONG."

Miss Morton, on grasping the drift of this epistle, exhibited symptoms
of distress. She flung out her arms in a dramatic attitude, and confided
to the audience her disinclination to take over the unwelcome task of
becoming duenna to her niece. There was no other course open to her,
apparently; the idea of sending the girl home by the next train, or of
hastily packing her own box and departing somewhere on urgent business
did not seem to occur to her. She grumbled, but accepted the
responsibility, and Jemima, the pert maidservant, made faces behind her
back, till summoned by a violent knocking, when she flew to the door and
admitted Dorothea, with bag and baggage.

Lilias, as the fashionable niece, was "got up regardless." Her hair was
done in a Grecian knot, a veil was twisted round her picture hat, and
she sailed into the room with the assurance of a Society beauty.

Aunt Monica, suppressing the letter of warning, gave the customary
greetings, then--with the imprudence characteris