pick up the many little joys
and pleasures you had to pass by when you trod that thorny path alone.'

PHOEBE. Can't be--can't be.

VALENTINE. Nay, Miss Phoebe has loved me. 'Tis you have said it.

PHOEBE. I did not mean to tell you.

VALENTINE. She will be my wife yet.

PHOEBE. Never.

VALENTINE. You are severe, Miss Livvy. But it is because you are
partial to her, and I am happy of that.

PHOEBE (_in growing horror of herself_). I partial to her! I am
laughing at both of you. Miss Phoebe. La, that old thing.

VALENTINE (_sternly_). Silence!

PHOEBE. I hate her and despise her. If you knew what she is----

(_He stops her with a gesture._)

VALENTINE. I know what you are.

PHOEBE. That paragon who has never been guilty of the slightest
deviation from the strictest propriety.

VALENTINE. Never.

PHOEBE. That garden----

VALENTINE. Miss Livvy, for shame.

PHOEBE. Your garden has been destroyed, sir; the weeds have entered
it, and all the flowers are choked.

VALENTINE. You false woman, what do you mean?

PHOEBE. I will tell you. (_But his confidence awes her._) What faith
you have in her.

VALENTINE. As in my God. Speak.

PHOEBE. I cannot tell you.

VALENTINE. No, you cannot.

PHOEBE. It is too horrible.

VALENTINE. You are too horrible. Is not that it?

PHOEBE. Yes, that is it.

(MISS SUSAN _has entered and caught the last words._)

MISS SUSAN (_shrinking as from a coming blow_). What is too horrible?

VALENTINE. Ma'am, I leave the telling of it to her, if she dare. And
I devoutly hope those are the last words I shall ever address to this
lady.

(_He bows and goes out in dudgeon_. MISS SUSAN _believes all is
discovered and that_ MISS PHOEBE _is for ever shamed._)

MISS SUSAN (_taking_ PHOEBE _in her arms_). My love, my dear, what
terrible thing has he said to you?

PHOEBE (_forgetting everything but that she is loved_). Not
terrible--glorious! Susan, 'tis Phoebe he loves, 'tis me, not Livvy!
He loves me, he loves me! Me--Phoebe!

(MISS SUSAN'S _bosom swells. It is her great hour as much as_
PHOEBE'S.)

_End of Act III._

ACT IV

THE BLUE AND WHITE ROOM

_If we could shut our eyes to the two sisters sitting here in woe, this
would be, to the male eye at least, the identical blue and white room
of ten years ago; the same sun shining into it and playing familiarly
with Miss Susan's treasures. But the ladies are changed. It