MRS. S. I see! If at the same time, Mr. Bellamy, you could inquire if it was the talented Tompkins who wrote the "Frozen Tear," I should be obliged.

SEL. (impatiently). Yes! yes, but we must not keep Frederick!

Remember the gentleman is hatless all this while. _Do_ be off, Bellamy, my boy!

FRED (aside). I suppose I must, but if ever I save anybody's life again, may I be----

SEL. Don't dawdle, dear boy--don't dawdle!

(Exit FRED, hurried off by SELWYN, door in flat.

GRACE. _Now_, ma, I hope you will speak----

MRS. S. Yes, my child--yes!

SEL. At last he has gone, the ill-omened hat has left my house I hope never to return!

FRED (rushing in again). Forgotten the directory!

SEL. Oh!

MRS. S. What directory?

SEL. Here it is! (Throwing it at FRED, who catches it.)

MRS. S. What does Fred want that for?

SEL. Amus.e.m.e.nt, mere amus.e.m.e.nt, to pa.s.s the time in the cab--_you_ read, my dear, when _you_ travel!

MRS. S. But _I_ read poetry!

SEL. What does it signify--poetry or directory, a mere matter of detail--tastes differ--he likes directory! (Aside to FRED.) Get out or I shall have a fit!

FRED. But you know I have not had my breakfast yet!

SEL. Breakfast! And he can think of feeding at a moment like this! Oh! buy a biscuit as you go along, or you can eat the directory if you like when you have found the owner of the hat! This delay is maddening. (SELWYN hustles FRED off again.)

MRS. S. There is something the matter with Samuel, his manner's so strange this morning!

SEL. Once more relieved!

MRS. S. Samuel!

SEL. Bella!

MRS. S. I want to speak to you about Gracie. She's nearly nineteen, and we ought to be thinking about seeing her settled.

SEL. There's no hurry--she's too young!

MRS. S. She's older than I was when we were married; I was only seventeen.

SEL. It's a most extraordinary fact that every woman with a tall daughter was married at seventeen, or says she was!

MRS. S. Sam, in _my_ case you _know_ it's true; besides, there are good reasons why we should talk about Gracie.

SEL. (aside). Fred has been dropping hints on the subject, evidently.

MRS. S. Speaking in her name I think I may tell you she has seen some one she can care about.

SEL. (a.s.suming authority). Um! What! without consulting me?

GRACE (aside to MRS. SELWYN). Oh, ma! suppose he says "no!"

MRS. S. Hush!

SEL. And who might the gentleman be? (Aside.) It is as well to pretend to be blind! (Aloud.) Who is he? What is he?

Enter DIBBS, R. 2 E.

DIBBS. Your barber, sir!

SEL. My barber!

DIBBS. Yes, sir, waiting in your dressing-room--and please, ma'am, there's your dressmaker waiting in your's!

SEL. I mustn't keep him waiting! If he got tired he'd lose his temper and I should probably lose a bit of my chin.

(Exit, R. U. E.

GRACE. Interrupted again! It _is_ vexing!

MRS. S. I can't keep Mrs. Frillet, or she'd never let me know the latest fashions before anyone else! Dibbs, go to the Circulating Library and ask for the "_Frozen Tear_."

DIBBS. Yes, ma'am! Shall I wait while it's put in ice, ma'am.

MRS. S. Stupid boy! The "_Frozen Tear_" is by Horace Tompkins, it's his latest and most fiery production. Go!

(Exit MRS. SELWYN, L. U. E.

DIBBS. First she says it's frozen, then it's fiery! She may call it poetry, I call it bosh! (GRACE sits, L.)

SEL. (putting head in at door, R., and beckoning DIBBS).

Remember, Dibbs, I am at home to no one!

DIBBS (low that GRACE may not hear). Right, sir! Now to fetch the "red hot icicle" or whatever it is!

(Exit, door at back.

GRACE. Ten o'clock and pa not yet told that I am engaged!

It's too bad, Corney will be here in half an hour!