[_His hands in his trouser-pockets, contemplating MRS. UPJOHN desperately._] Upon my soul, Ma, you're a champion!

MRS. UPJOHN.

_Now_ wot 'ave I done!

ROPER.

Well, you might spread yourself a little over young Farncombe.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Spread myself! Why should I?

ROPER.

Lord Farncombe!

MRS. UPJOHN.

I treat 'em all alike; so does Lil. 'E's not the first t.i.tle we've 'ad 'ere, not by a dozen.

ROPER.

No, but d.a.m.n it all--! I beg your pardon----

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Beaming._] So you ought-- swearin' like a trooper.

ROPER.

_This_ chap's in love with her.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Oh, they're all in love with 'er; or _'ave_ been, one time or another.

ROPER.

Yes, but they're not all Farncombes and they're not all marrying men.

I'm prepared to bet my boots that if Lil and young Farncombe could be thrown together----! [_Sitting on the settee in front of the writing-table as MRS. UPJOHN rises and comes forward._] Here! Do talk it over.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Placidly._] Where's the use o' talkin' it over? It's wastin' one's breath. [_Moving to the settee by the piano._] My Lil doesn't want to marry-- any'ow not yet awhile; she's 'appy and contented as she is.

[_Sitting and smoothing out her skirt._] When she does, I s'pose it'll be the Captain.

ROPER.

[_Between his teeth._] The Captain! [_Quietly._] Ma, the day Lil marries Nicko Jeyes, you and she'll see the last o' _me_.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Oh, don't say that, Uncle.

ROPER.

I do say it. The disappointment 'ud be more than I could stand.

Selfish, designing beggar!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Now, no low abuse.

ROPER.

A fellow who gets on the soft side of Lil before she's out of her teens-- before she's made any position to speak of; and when she _has_ made a position, and _he's_ practically on his uppers, sticks to her like a limpet!

MRS. UPJOHN.

She sticks to 'im, too. It meant a deal to Lil in 'er 'umble days, reck'lect-- receivin' attentions from a gentleman in the army. She doesn't forget that.

ROPER.

[_Jumping up and walking about._] It's cruel; that's what it is-- it's cruel. Here's Gwennie Harker and Maidie Trevail both married to peers'

sons, and Eva Shafto to a baronet-- all of 'em Pandora girls; and Lil-- _she's_ left high and dry, engaged to a n.o.body! It's cruel!

MRS. UPJOHN.

She's not ackshally engaged.

ROPER.

Ho, ho!

MRS. UPJOHN.

The ideer was, when 'e shirked goin' to India an' gave up soldierin', so as to be near 'er, that 'e should get something to do in London; _then_ they were to be engaged.

ROPER.

[_Sarcastically._] Oh, to be just, I admit he's in no hurry. He's been a whole year looking for something to do in London-- looking for it at Catani's and at the Pandora bars!

MRS. UPJOHN.

'E _'as_ to be on the spot at night, to bring Lil 'ome after 'er work.

ROPER.