knit more quickly._)

The unhappy Camilla was standing lost in reverie when, without pausing
to advertise her of his intentions, he took both her hands in his.

(_By this time the knitting has stopped, and all are listening as if
mesmerised._)

Slowly he gathered her in his arms----

(MISS SUSAN _gives an excited little cry._)

MISS FANNY. And rained hot, burning----'

MISS WILLOUGHBY. Sister!

MISS FANNY (_greedily_). 'On eyes, mouth----'

MISS WILLOUGHBY (_sternly_). Stop. Miss Susan, I am indeed surprised
you should bring such an amazing, indelicate tale from the library.

MISS SUSAN (_with a slight shudder_). I deeply regret, Miss
Willoughby---- (_Sees_ MISS FANNY _reading quickly to herself._) Oh,
Fanny! If you please, my dear.

(_Takes the book gently from her._)

MISS WILLOUGHBY. I thank you.

(_She knits severely._)

MISS FANNY (_a little rebel_). Miss Susan is looking at the end.

(MISS SUSAN _closes the book guiltily._)

MISS SUSAN (_apologetically_). Forgive my partiality for romance,
Mary. I fear 'tis the mark of an old maid.

MISS WILLOUGHBY. Susan, that word!

MISS SUSAN (_sweetly_). 'Tis what I am. And you also, Mary, my dear.

MISS FANNY (_defending her sister_). Miss Susan, I protest.

MISS WILLOUGHBY (_sternly truthful_). Nay, sister, 'tis true. We are
known everywhere now, Susan, you and I, as the old maids of Quality
Street. (_General discomfort._)

MISS SUSAN. I am happy Phoebe will not be an old maid.

MISS HENRIETTA (_wistfully_). Do you refer, Miss Susan, to V. B.?

(MISS SUSAN _smiles happily to herself._)

MISS SUSAN. Miss Phoebe of the ringlets as he has called her.

MISS FANNY. Other females besides Miss Phoebe have ringlets.

MISS SUSAN. But you and Miss Henrietta have to employ papers, my dear.
(_Proudly_) Phoebe, never.

MISS WILLOUGHBY (_in defence of_ FANNY). I do not approve of Miss
Phoebe at all.

MISS SUSAN (_flushing_). Mary, had Phoebe been dying you would have
called her an angel, but that is ever the way. 'Tis all jealousy to
the bride and good wishes to the corpse. (_Her guests rise, hurt._)
My love, I beg your pardon.

MISS WILLOUGHBY. With your permission, Miss Susan, I shall put on my
pattens.

(MISS SUSAN _gives permission almost haughtily, and the ladies retire
to the bedroom,_ MISS FANNY _remaining behind a moment to ask a
question._)

MISS FANNY. A bride? Miss Susan, do you mean that V. B. has declared