have begun to dance, they
are so anxious to dance. One dance, Susan, to Phoebe of the ringlets,
and then I will put her away in her box and never look at her again.
Ma'am, may I have the honour? Nay, then I shall dance alone. (_She
dances._) Oh, Susan, I almost wish I were a goose.

(_Presently_ PATTY _returns. She gazes at_ MISS PHOEBE _dancing._)

PATTY. Miss Phoebe!

PHOEBE (_still dancing_). Not Miss Phoebe, Patty. I am not myself
to-night, I am--let me see, I am my niece.

PATTY (_in a whisper to_ SUSAN). But Miss Susan, 'tis Captain Brown.

MISS SUSAN. Oh, stop, Phoebe, stop!

PATTY. Nay, let him see her!

(MISS SUSAN _hurries scandalised into the other room as_ VALENTINE
_enters._)

VALENTINE. I ventured to come back because---- (PHOEBE _turns to
him--he stops abruptly, bewildered._) I beg your pardon, madam, I
thought it was Miss Susan or Miss Phoebe.

(_His mistake surprises her, but she is in a wild mood and curtsies,
then turns away and smiles. He stares as if half-convinced._)

PATTY (_with an inspiration_). 'Tis my mistresses' niece, sir; she is
on a visit here.

(_He is deceived. He bows gallantly, then remembers the object of his
visit. He produces a bottle of medicine._)

VALENTINE. Patty, I obtained this at the apothecary's for Miss
Phoebe's headache. It should be taken at once.

PATTY. Miss Phoebe is lying down, sir.

VALENTINE. Is she asleep?

PATTY (_demurely_). No, sir, I think she be wide awake.

VALENTINE. It may soothe her.

PHOEBE. Patty, take it to Aunt Phoebe at once.

(_PATTY goes out sedately with the medicine._)

VALENTINE (_after a little awkwardness, which_ PHOEBE _enjoys_).
Perhaps I may venture to present myself, Miss--Miss----?

PHOEBE. Miss--Livvy, sir.

VALENTINE. I am Captain Brown, Miss Livvy, an old friend of both your
aunts.

PHOEBE (_curtsying_). I have heard them speak of a dashing Mr. Brown.
But I think it cannot be the same.

VALENTINE (_a little chagrined_). Why not, ma'am?

PHOEBE. I ask your pardon, sir.

VALENTINE, I was sure you must be related. Indeed, for a moment the
likeness--even the voice----

PHOEBE (_pouting_). La, sir, you mean I am like Aunt Phoebe. Every
one says so--and indeed 'tis no compliment.

VALENTINE. 'Twould have been a compliment once. You must be a
daughter of the excellent Mr. James Throssel who used to reside at
Great Buckland.

PHOEBE. He is still there.

VALENTINE. A ted