inet and plays at first excitedly a
gay tune, then slowly, then comes to a stop with her head bowed. Soon
she jumps up courageously, brushes away her distress, gets an algebra
book from the desk and sits down to study it_. MISS SUSAN _is at the
window, where ladies and gentlemen are now seen passing in ball
attire._)

MISS SUSAN. What book is it, Phoebe?

PHOEBE. It is an algebra.

MISS SUSAN. They are going by to the ball. (_In anger._) My Phoebe
should be going to the ball, too.

PHOEBE. You jest, Susan. (MISS SUSAN _watches her read_. PHOEBE _has
to wipe away a tear; soon she rises and gives way to the emotion she
has been suppressing ever since the entrance of_ VALENTINE.) Susan, I
hate him. Oh, Susan, I could hate him if it were not for his poor hand.

MISS SUSAN. My dear.

PHOEBE. He thought I was old, because I am weary, and he should not
have forgotten. I am only thirty. Susan, why does thirty seem so much
more than twenty-nine? (_As if_ VALENTINE _were present._) Oh, sir,
how dare you look so pityingly at me? Because I have had to work so
hard,--is it a crime when a woman works? Because I have tried to be
courageous--have I been courageous, Susan?

MISS SUSAN. God knows you have.

PHOEBE. But it has given me the headache, it has tired my eyes. Alas,
Miss Phoebe, all your charm has gone, for you have the headache, and
your eyes are tired. He is dancing with Charlotte Parratt now, Susan.
'I vow, Miss Charlotte, you are selfish and silly, but you are sweet
eighteen.' 'Oh la, Captain Brown, what a quiz you are.' That delights
him, Susan; see how he waggles his silly head.

MISS SUSAN. Charlotte Parratt is a goose.

PHOEBE. 'Tis what gentlemen prefer. If there were a sufficient number
of geese to go round, Susan, no woman of sense would ever get a
husband. 'Charming Miss Charlotte, you are like a garden; Miss Phoebe
was like a garden once, but 'tis a faded garden now.'

MISS SUSAN. If to be ladylike----

PHOEBE. Susan, I am tired of being ladylike. I am a young woman
still, and to be ladylike is not enough. I wish to be bright and
thoughtless and merry. It is every woman's birthright to be petted and
admired; I wish to be petted and admired. Was I born to be confined
within these four walls? Are they the world, Susan, or is there
anything beyond them? I want to know. My eyes are tired because for
ten years they have seen nothing but maps and desks. Ten years! T