emble at the tea-table and receive their cups
of tea from MRS. UPJOHN._

ROPER.

[_Relieving GLADYS of the stand._] Give it to me. I want a little
exercise.

LILY.

[_Taking her cup of tea from FARNCOMBE._] Thanks.

DE CASTRO.

[_Helping LILY to milk._] Milk-ho!

BLAND.

Sugar?

LILY.

Br-r-r-rh! I'm putting on weight as it is.

ROPER.

[_Offering the bread-and-butter, etc.-- facetiously._] Ices, sweets
_or_ chocolates, full piano-score!

LILY.

Nothing to eat, Uncle; I dine at six.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Calling to JEYES from the tea-table._] Captain, ain't you goin' to
'ave any tea?

JEYES.

[_Moodily examining the presents on the writing-table._] No, thank
you, Mrs. Upjohn.

BLAND.

[_To JIMMIE, after she has been helped to milk._] Sugar?

JIMMIE.

Two lumps.

ROPER.

[_Pushing BLAND and DE CASTRO aside, imitating a female voice._] Ices,
sweets _or_ chocolates, full piano-score!

JIMMIE.

[_Cutting a slice of cake._] Lal, the world 'ud be a much happier
place to live in if Lloyd George taxed your jokes.

VON RETTENMAYER, BLAND, and DE CASTRO. [_Returning to the tea-table._]
Ha, ha, ha, ha!

LILY.

[_To FARNCOMBE, who remains standing near her._] Seen our show at the
Pandora?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Gazing at her._] Twenty-three times.

LILY.

Not really?

FARNCOMBE.

This week and last, every night.

LILY.

[_Running her eye over him._] You in the Guards, by any chance?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Nodding._] Yes.

LILY.

[_Smiling._] Ah, you'll never do a braver deed than seeing our show
twenty-three times.

JIMMIE.

[_As ROPER leaves her to go to the table, her mouth full of cake._]
Boys! [_Choking._] Heugh, heugh, heugh! Wait a minute; I've swallowed
some of the Baron's German. [_Gulping._] B-oys, seriously-- no rot--
[_raising her tea-cup_] jolly good health to Lily! [_There is a cry of
approbation from BLAND, VON RETTENMAYER, DE CASTRO and ROPER.
FARNCOMBE fetches himself a cup of tea from the tea-table._] She's a
white woman, Lily is-- the staunchest, truest pal, where she takes a
liking----

BLAND, VON RETTENMAYER, DE CASTRO, AND ROPER.

Hear, hear!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Pressing forward through the men and going to LILY._] And the best
daughter breathing. [_Embracing LILY and then turning to the others._]
D'ye notice the new dress I'm wearin' this afternoon?

LILY.

Don't, mother; don't.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Fifteen guineas it's cost her. [_Sitting in the chair on