repeated. JIMMIE retreats to the right as MRS.
UPJOHN goes to the door and opens it. ROPER is outside._

ROPER.

[_Entering, in high spirits._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo!
[_Embracing MRS. UPJOHN._] Morning, Ma! [_Advancing._] Any _more_ bids
for the handsome gilt candelabra with the crystal drops? Ha, ha, ha!
[_To JIMMIE._] Morning, Jimmie! [_Looking down, upon LILY, eagerly._]
Well, Lil! Well, my pet!

LILY.

[_In a weary tone, giving him the tips of her fingers and then turning
upon her side with her face to the back of the settee._] How are you,
Uncle Lal?

ROPER.

[_Chilled._] Oh, I-- thank you, Lil-- [_After a short pause, to MRS.
UPJOHN-- glancing at LILY._] Not up to much to-day?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Glumly._] No great shakes.

ROPER.

Dancing too hard, I 'spect.

MRS. UPJOHN.

A deal too 'ard.

ROPER.

[_After another pause._] Anything else amiss, Ma?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Sitting upon the box-ottoman-- to JIMMIE, who is at the piano
examining some of the music._] _You_ tell Lal, Jimmie.

ROPER.

T-t-tell--? [_To JIMMIE, who comes to the settee-- apprehensively._]
Jimmie----!

JIMMIE.

[_Behind the settee, gravely._] No, the old Pandora isn't going to
score _this_ time, Lal.

ROPER.

Isn't going to--? I d-d-don't follow you.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Be plain, Jimmie.

JIMMIE.

[_Endeavouring to relieve the situation._] Ha, ha! Nature's taken
precious good care of that, in my case.

ROPER.

[_Angrily._] Now, look here, Jimmie! A jest is a capital thing in its
way. No man has a keener sense of humour than Lal Roper. But there
_are_ occasions when it's out o' place, and this is one of 'em, my
dear; and if it's not putting you to serious inconvenience----

JIMMIE.

[_Also losing her temper._] Oh, well, then, have it in the neck! Lil's
declined young Farncombe. There! And when _you_ crack a joke next, Mr.
Roper, I beg you'll contrive to favour us with a little variety;
[_flouncing away_] because you bore me pallid with your rotten
wheezes, and always have done.

ROPER.

[_Going to MRS. UPJOHN, aghast at the tidings._] Ma----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_To ROPER, under her breath._] Won't draw 'im into 'er net, Uncle.

ROPER.

Won't draw him into her----?

JIMMIE.

[_At the back._] K-n-e-double t-- net!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Pacifically._] Jimmie----!

JIMMIE.

[_Mimicking ROPER derisively._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo! Fresh
fish from the sea! Buy 'em on the beach; buy 'em on th