(_Eagerly_) Sergeant, who?

SERGEANT. Nay, ma'am, I think it be a secret as yet.

PHOEBE. But a gentleman! 'Tis the most amazing, exciting thing.
Sergeant, be so obliging.

SERGEANT. Nay, ma'am, I can't.

MISS SUSAN (_at door, carried away by excitement_). But you must, you
must!

SERGEANT (_turning to the door_). You see, ma'am--

(_The door is hurriedly closed._)

PHOEBE (_ashamed_). Sergeant, I have not been saying the things I
meant to say to you. Will you please excuse my turning you out of the
house somewhat violently.

SERGEANT. I am used to it, ma'am.

PHOEBE. I won't really hurt you.

SERGEANT. Thank you kindly, ma'am.

PHOEBE (_observing the bedroom door opening a little, and speaking in a
loud voice_). I protest, sir; we shall permit no followers in this
house. Should I discover you in my kitchen again I shall pitch you
out--neck and crop. Begone, sir.

(_The_ SERGEANT _retires affably. All the ladies except_ MISS
HENRIETTA _come out, admiring_ PHOEBE. _The_ WILLOUGHBYS _are attired
for their journey across the street._)

MISS WILLOUGHBY. Miss Phoebe, we could not but admire you.

(PHOEBE, _alas, knows that she is not admirable._)

PHOEBE. But the gentleman recruit?

MISS SUSAN. Perhaps they will know who he is at the woollen-drapers.

MISS FANNY. Let us inquire.

(_But before they go_ MISS WILLOUGHBY _has a duty to perform._)

MISS WILLOUGHBY. I wish to apologise. Miss Phoebe, you are a dear,
good girl. If I have made remarks about her ringlets, Susan, it was
jealousy. (PHOEBE _and_ MISS SUSAN _wish to embrace her, but she is
not in the mood for it._) Come, sister.

MISS FANNY (_the dear woman that she is_). Phoebe, dear, I wish you
very happy.

(_PHOEBE presses her hand._)

MISS HENRIETTA (_entering, and not to be outdone_). Miss Phoebe, I
give you joy.

(_The three ladies go, the two younger ones a little tearfully, and we
see them pass the window._)

PHOEBE (_pained_). Susan, you have been talking to them about V. B.

MISS SUSAN. I could not help it. (_Eagerly_) Now, Phoebe, what is it
you have to tell me?

PHOEBE (_in a low voice_). Dear, I think it is too holy to speak of.

MISS SUSAN. To your sister?

PHOEBE. Susan, as you know, I was sitting with an unhappy woman whose
husband has fallen in the war. When I came out of the cottage he was
passing.

MISS SUSAN. Yes?

PHOEBE. He offered me his escort. At first he was very silent