d family!
(Exit, L. U. E.)

BLITH. (to SELWYN). Then _you_ must have opened them?

SEL. Not exactly--but of course----(embarrassed.)

BLITH. Not that it will matter now the wedding is so soon
to come off!

SEL. (aside). He thinks I can marry his daughter!

BLITH. I shall be glad to see her settled!

SEL. (aside). He will see me settled soon! (Aloud.) Would you
mind stepping into the library?--we can continue our explanation
there. (Aside.) Anything to prevent his meeting my wife!

BLITH. Certainly! (Exeunt SELWYN and BLITHERS, R. 2 E.)

Enter FRED, with pistol case; he puts hat on table, L.

FRED. I couldn't get any good swords, but my friend Dawkins
has lent me a couple of capital pistols. As I was the challenged
party I have the choice of weapons. By Jove! I will do a little
practicing before the glass to see if my hand's steady.

(Exit FRED into his room, L. 2 E.

Enter MRS. SELWYN, L. U. E.

MRS. S. From an upper window I just observed Sam cross the
road and come sneaking into his own house with blue spectacles
on! Why? There's a mystery in the air that I mean to fathom--for
the wife who would allow her husband to have a secret all to
himself does not deserve to have a mother to instruct her in
the wicked ways of the male sex in general, and married men
in particular! (Sits, R.)

Enter GRACE, L. U. E.

GRACE. Oh! mamma, something dreadful is going to happen
through that awful quarrel! Dibbs is polishing up two swords
and whistling the "Dead March in Saul" in a way that makes my
blood run cold! (Sits on sofa.)

MRS. S. _He's_ in it, too! Only let a man make up his mind
to deceive his wife--and everything masculine from a boy in
buttons to a Judge on the bench will lend him a hand! They
are _all_ in the swim, and they know it! My child, it would
be far better for you to give up this idea of wedded bliss!

GRACE. I know, mamma, everybody knows--marriage is a lottery.

MRS. S. For the men--yes! but for the women--no! You can't
call a thing a lottery when there are _no_ prizes at all;
it then becomes a mere swindle!

GRACE. Oh, mamma! You always go on like this when papa
grumbles at your bonnet bill.

Enter DIBBS quickly, with card, L. U. E.

DIBBS. Oh, sir, here's the young lady!--(putting card behind
him and giving little whistle.) Whew!--the missus!

MRS. S. What? (To GRACE.) Go to your room, Grace; I want
to tal