men right under my nose, and I shall have to send Agnes home to her aunt without a single offer.
Mr. B. There, there! my dear. Don't take things so hard.
Mrs. B. Where, I should like to know, are those other odious girls?
Mr. B. I set them to melting lead in the kitchen.
Mrs. B. Yes, and there's that horrid Agnes gone on a perfect witch's dance around the house, with her mouth filled with water, and not a man in sight for miles. Since she is so fond of other people's husbands, perhaps [tartly] you had better go and escort her indoors before she catches her death of cold. [A loud scream causes them both to start up and rim to the window.]
Mrs. B. Merciful goodness! Benedict, what was that? I saw a dark figure rush towards Agnes.
Mr. B. Let me go, I say! [Tries to unclasp her hands.]
Mrs. B. Never. You will be murdered!
Mr. B. Cecily, that girl's blood be upon you if you do not let me go and protect her! [Struggles vainly to free himself.]
Mrs. B. Look, look! [At that points with one finger through the window.]
Mr. B. The brute! He is kissing her again and again! Cecily, you should be ashamed to hold me in this way with that maniac conducting himself so!
Mrs. B. [shaking her husband's arm vigorously]. Yes, yes, but she has her head on his shoulder now.
Mr. B. [giving a start]. Will wonders never cease! Why, it's Owen Reynolds, by thunder! [Claps his leg.]
Mrs. B. I thought you told me he went to shoot tigers in the wilds of Africa because he had never recovered from some love affair. That's just like you men. And here he is kissing and embracing a woman he never saw before.
Mr. B. Hush! they are coming in.
[Enter Agnes and Owen Reynolds.]
A. H. [rapturously]. He has come at last!
Mrs. B. [rather coldly]. Whom do you refer to?
