s GWENDOLEN out myself this
morning. By the way, I shall expect you to appear in the drawing-room this
evening before dinner. I hope you have a suitable frock?

_Miss Seaton._ I have a black one with lace sleeves and heliotrope
_chiffon_, if that will do--it was made in Paris.

_Mrs. T._ You are fortunate to be able to command such luxuries. All _my_
dresses are made in the Grove.

_Miss Seat._ (_biting her lip_). Mine was made when we--before I---- [_She
checks herself._

_Mrs. T._ You need not remind me _quite_ so often that your circumstances
were formerly different, Miss SEATON, for I am perfectly aware of the fact.
Otherwise, I should not feel justified in bringing you in contact, even for
so short a time, with my relations and friends, who are _most_ particular.
I think that is all I wanted you for at present. Stop, you are forgetting
the _menus_.

[Miss SEATON _collects the cards and goes out with compressed lips
as_ JANE _enters_.

_Jane._ Another telegram, if you please, M'm, and Cook would like to speak
to you about the pheasants.

[Illustration: THE POET LAUREATE OF THE MUSIC HALLS. A STUDY. [_See p. 33._

_Mrs. T._ Oh, dear me, JANE! I wish you wouldn't come and startle me with
your horrid telegrams--there, give it to me. (_Reading._) "Wife down,
violent influenza. Must come without her, TOOMER." (_Resentfully._) Again!
and I _know_ she's had it twice since the spring--it's too tiresomely
inconsid--no, it isn't--it's the very best thing she could do. Now we shall
be only twelve, and I needn't order that man from BLANKLEY'S, after all.
Poor dear woman, I must really write her a nice sympathetic little note--so
_fortunate_!

SCENE II.--Mrs. TIDMARSH'S _Bedroom--Time 7:15._ Mrs. T. _has just
had her hair dressed by her Maid_.

_Mrs. T._ You might have given me more of a fringe than that, PINNIFER. You
don't make nearly so much of my hair as you used to! (PINNIFER _discreetly
suppress the obvious retort_.) Well, I suppose that must do. I shan't
require you any more. Go down and see if the lamps in the drawing-room are
smelling. (PINNIFER _goes; sounds of ablutions are heard from_ Mr. T.'s
_dressing-room_.) MONTAGUE, is that you? I never heard you come in.

_Mr. T.'s Voice_ (_indistinctly._) Only just this moment come up, my dear.
Been putting out the wine.

_Mrs. T._ You always _will_ leave everything to the last. No, don't come
in. What? How can I hear what you say when you keep