he carriage is here!

JINNY. I won't be a second--

[_She goes out Right._

MRS. TILLMAN. Where has she gone?

AUSTIN. Up to her brother.

MRS. TILLMAN. Her father's been locked up in his study for three
hours--he _says_ thinking, but to _me_ his eyes look very suspicious!

[_Taking her husband's arm affectionately._

TILLMAN. [_Clears his throat._] Nonsense!

MRS. TILLMAN. Well, _how many cigars did you smoke_?

TILLMAN. Eight.

MRS. TILLMAN. The amount of emotion that a man can soak out of himself
with tobacco is wonderful! He uses it just like a sponge!

TILLMAN. Jack, the first thing I asked about you when I heard
that--er--that things were getting this way was, does he smoke? A man
who smokes has always that outlet. If things go wrong--go out and smoke
a cigar, and when the cigar's _finished_, ten to one everything's got
right, somehow! If you lose your temper, don't speak!--a cigar, and when
it's finished, then speak! You'll find the temper all gone up in the
smoke! A woman's happiness is safest with a man who smokes. [_He clears
his throat, which is filling._] God bless you, Jack, it _is_ a wrench;
our only girl, you know. She's been a great joy--ahem!

[_He quickly gets out a cigar._

MRS. TILLMAN. [_Stopping him from smoking._] No, no, dear, they're
_going now_!

TILLMAN. Well, the best I can say is, I wish you as happy a married life
as her mother and I have had.

MRS. TILLMAN. Thirty-five _dear_ years! But now, George, let me say a
word--you always have monopolized our new son--he'll be much fonder of
you than _me_!

TILLMAN. Old lady!--Jealous!--

MRS. TILLMAN. Turn about is fair play--you're jealous still of Jinny and
me. [_She pauses a moment._] I think we'd better tell him!

TILLMAN. All right. The only rifts in our lute, Jack, have been little
threads of jealousy that have snapped sometimes!

MRS. TILLMAN. Nothing ever serious--of course, _but_ it's a fault that
Jinny shares with us, and the _only fault_ we've ever been able to find.

TILLMAN. We called her for years the girl with the green eyes. She goes
it pretty _strong_ sometimes!

AUSTIN. Oh, that's all right--I shall _like_ it!

MRS. TILLMAN. You'll always bear with her, won't you, if she should ever
get jealous of you?

AUSTIN. Of _me_? I'll never give _her the chance_.

MRS. TILLMAN. It isn't a question of chance; you just can't help it
sometimes, can you, George?

TILLMAN. No, you can't.

MRS. TILLMAN. An