_Harry._ No, my darling. You put it off after tea----

_Dolly._ But our heads will be so much clearer in the morning----

_Harry._ [_Very solemnly and severely._] My darling, remember what Pilcher said about procrastination. And remember our resolutions last night. If we break them on the first night of the year, where shall we be on the thirty-first of December?

_Dolly._ I'm horribly f.a.gged.

_Harry._ Conquer it! Think how delightful it will be to put your head on the pillow to-night, without a single anxiety, without a single thought----

_Dolly._ Except my grat.i.tude to you!

_Harry._ Come, dear, no time like the present!

_Dolly._ [_Jumps up very briskly._] No time like the present! [_Looking at him with great admiration._] Oh, Harry, what a dear, kind, good husband you've always been to me!

_Harry._ Have I, my darling? [_Modestly._] I've done my best----

_Dolly._ How I must have tried you!

_Harry._ No, dear--at least a little sometimes.

_Dolly._ When I think what patience you've had with me, and never reproached me----

_Harry._ Well, not often. We've had our little tiffs--That day at Goodwood--eh?

_Dolly._ Don't speak of it! I was to blame----

_Harry._ No, dear, I can't let you accuse yourself. I was quite in the wrong.

_Dolly._ No, dear, it was my fault entirely!

_Harry._ Well, we won't quarrel about that. Now these bills----

_Dolly._ And what good pals we've been!

_Harry._ And always shall be. [_Kissing her._

_Dolly._ [_Hugging him._] Oh, you dear!

_Harry._ Now, business, business!

_Dolly._ [_Going up to writing-desk._] What a lucky woman I am!

_Harry._ [_Seated at table._] Bring them all.

_Dolly._ [_Has opened desk and taken up some bills--she looks round dubiously at_ HARRY.] What a splendid thing it must be to be a husband and have it in your power to make your wife _adore_ you, by simply paying a few bills.

_Harry._ Yes--bring them all. [_She comes down with a bundle of about fifteen, hands them to him._] Is this all?

_Dolly._ All, of any importance.

_Harry._ I want to see them all.

_Dolly._ So you shall, but we'll go through these first, because [_lamely_] if you want to ask any questions we can settle them on the spot, can't we?

_Harry._ [_Reading from the bill._] Maison Recamier, Court and artistic millinery. By Jove! [_Looks up._

_Dolly._ What!

_Harry._ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine--nine hats!

_Dolly._ Different kinds of hats.

_Harry._ Yedda straw hat, four guineas, ostrich feather ruffle, twelve pounds ten----

_Dolly._ That was the one--you remember--when I came into the room you said, "Stay there! Just as you are! I must kiss you!"

_Harry._ Yes, but twelve pounds ten--Moss green chip hat, four, fourteen, six. Heliotrope velvet toque----

_Dolly._ That's the dear little toque you admire so much!

_Harry._ Do I? Six guineas! Dear little toque! Hat in white Tegal with plumes of Nattier Bleu--fifteen guineas--Fifteen guineas?!

_Dolly._ With plumes! Of Nattier Bleu!

_Harry._ But fifteen guineas!

_Dolly._ Oh, the woman's a fearful swindler! But what are you to do with such people?

_Harry._ [_With bill._] Total, sixty-four, seven, six. And I get my one silk topper a year, at a guinea, and three and six for doing it up.

Total for me, one, four, six. Total for you----

_Dolly._ My dear Harry, don't make absurd comparisons!

_Harry._ [_Takes another bill._] John Spearman, artistic gown maker, ball gowns, reception gowns, race gowns--Good heavens!

_Dolly._ What's the matter?

_Harry._ Total, five hundred and fifty-six pounds--that can't be right!

_Dolly._ [_Frightened._] No, it can't be! Add it up!

_Harry._ [_Reading._] Tea gown of chiffon taffeta--

_Dolly._ The one I took to Folkestone, you remember?

[_With a little attempt at a kiss._

_Harry._ [_Gently repulsing her._] No, I don't. [_She puts her arms round his neck; he gently pushes her aside._] Business first, please.