bery. She will not find_ LIVVY _there, however, for next moment_
MISS PHOEBE _darts in from the back._)

PHOEBE (_in a gay whisper_). Susan, another offer [Transcriber's note:
officer?] --Major Linkwater--rotund man, black whiskers, fierce
expression; he has rushed away to destroy himself.

(_We have been unable to find any record of the Major's tragic end._)

AN OLD SOLDIER (_looking up from a card table, whence he has heard the
raging of_ BLADES). Miss Livvy, ma'am, what is this about the moon?

(PHOEBE _smiles roguishly._)

PHOEBE (_looking about her_). I want my cloak, Aunt Susan.

MISS SUSAN. I have just lent it to poor Charlotte Parratt.

PHOEBE. Oh, auntie!

OLD SOLDIER. And now Miss Livvy cannot go into the shrubbery to see
the moon; and she is so fond of the moon!

(MISS PHOEBE _screws her nose at him merrily, and darts back to the
dance, but she has left a defender behind her._)

A GALLANT (_whose name we have not succeeded in discovering_). Am I to
understand, sir, that you are intimating disparagement of the moon? If
a certain female has been graciously pleased to signify approval of
that orb, any slight cast upon the moon, sir, I shall regard as a
personal affront.

OLD SOLDIER. Hoity-toity.

(_But he rises, and they face each other, as_ MISS SUSAN _feels, for
battle. She is about to rush between their undrawn swords when there
is a commotion outside; a crowd gathers and opens to allow some
officers to assist a fainting woman into the tent. It is_ MISS PHOEBE,
_and_ MISS SUSAN _with a cry goes on her knees beside her. The tent
has filled with the sympathetic and inquisitive, but_ CAPTAIN BROWN,
_as a physician, takes command, and by his order they retire. He finds
difficulty in bringing the sufferer to, and gets little help from_ MISS
SUSAN, _who can only call upon_ MISS PHOEBE _by name._)

VALENTINE. Nay, Miss Susan, 'tis useless calling for Miss Phoebe.
'Tis my fault; I should not have permitted Miss Livvy to dance so
immoderately. Why do they delay with the cordial?

(_He goes to the back to close the opening, and while he is doing so
the incomprehensible_ MISS PHOEBE _seizes the opportunity to sit up on
her couch of chairs, waggle her finger at_ MISS SUSAN, _and sign darkly
that she is about to make a genteel recovery._)

PHOEBE. Where am I? Is that you, Aunt Susan? What has happened?

VALENTINE (_returning_). Nay, you must recline, Miss Livvy. You
fainted. You h