packed up in a little box near the roof, and you may imagine how hot it
was. It was like a Turkish bath. And, of course, one couldn't see
anything.

_Maj._: Then it was not like a Turkish bath.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Major!

_Em._: We were just talking of you when you joined us.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Really! Nothing very dreadful, I hope.

_Em._: Oh dear, no! It's too early on the voyage for that sort of thing.
We were feeling rather sorry for you.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Sorry for me? Whatever for?

_Maj._: Your childless hearth and all that, you know. No little
pattering feet.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Major! How dare you? I've got my little girl, I suppose
you know. Her feet can patter as well as other children's.

_Maj._: Only one pair of feet.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Certainly. My child isn't a centipede. Considering the
way they move us about in those horrid jungle stations, without a decent
bungalow to set one's foot in, I consider I've got a hearthless child,
rather than a childless hearth. Thank you for your sympathy all the
same. I dare say it was well meant. Impertinence often is.

_Em._: Dear Mrs. Paly-Paget, we were only feeling sorry for your sweet
little girl when she grows older, you know. No little brothers and
sisters to play with.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Mrs. Carewe, this conversation strikes me as being
indelicate, to say the least of it. I've only been married two and a
half years, and my family is naturally a small one.

_Maj._: Isn't it rather an exaggeration to talk of one little female
child as a family? A family suggests numbers.

_Mrs. P.-P._: Really, Major, you language is extraordinary. I dare say
I've only got a little female child, as you call it, at present--

_Maj._: Oh, it won't change into a boy later on, if that's what you're
counting on. Take our word for it; we've had so much more experience in
these affairs than you have. Once a female, always a female. Nature is
not infallible, but she always abides by her mistakes.

_Mrs. P.-P._ (rising): Major Dumbarton, these boats are uncomfortably
small, but I trust we shall find ample accommodation for avoiding each
other's society during the rest of the voyage. The same wish applies to
you, Mrs. Carewe.

(Exit Mrs. Paly-Paget, L.)

_Maj._: What an unnatural mother! (Sinks into chair.)

_Em._: I wouldn't trust a child with any one who had a temper like hers.
Oh, Dickie, why did you go and have such a large family? You always said
you wanted me