^3>' Comemrtion RcBOorceB Uf-FVei^ Type I Twice Loved, AN ORIGINAL SOCIETY PLAY, IN A PROLOG-UE AND FOUR ACTS, THE PROPERTY OF JOSEPH HART. Printed so as to comply with Revised Act of Congress. ALI^ RIOIiTS RESERVED. Of- yy^c^, ,,•',«' ,-- Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by Joseph Hart, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. CHARACTERS IN THE DRAMA. STANLY MAITLAND, afterwards the Earl of Eslinton. COUNT MONTANO, Gambler, Stanly's friend. DON RIVERO, afterwards the Marquis De Lassee. RUY EDGARDO, Gambling friend. DON COMANDO, Deaf Nobleman. DE MAURIER, Clergyman— French. PARDOE, Butler to Earl Eglinton. SIR GEORGE ELLIOT, friend of Earl Eglinton. JED ALIA, Daughter of Montano, afterwards Agnes Sherwood. COUNTESS OF EGLINTON, Wife of the Earl. MRS. JULIA FOXALL, House-keeper to the Countess. The HONORABLE, MISS SKEGGS. PETRA, Jedalia's Attendant. Lady Guests, Gentlemen Guests, Servants, etc. TMP96-G06828 PROLOGUE. A FORCED MARRIAGE. SCENE— Nice (Italy). A private dining room in Hotel Santiago superbly furnished. Steps centre at back leading on to a balcony. Perspective of hills and bay. Gondolas pass and repass. Singing heard icith guitar accompaniment. Opening music lively. As the curtain rises Count Montano, Stanly Maitland, De 3Iaurier, Don Rivero, Signor Comando, Ruy Edgardo are discovered seated. Montano, centre, facing aadience ; Stanley, L; De Maurier, R. Two waiters are uncorking bottles of champagne — Pouring into glasses. The table is beautifully decorated — eatables, etc. Count Montano rises with glass in hand. Omnes shouting " A speech ! a speech /" The Count waves the waiters to go. They go off L. Count M. Gentlemen, as the present dinner may be the last— Omnes. No, no ! Count M. That is— circumstances may arise which may prevent my en- tertaining you for some time at least. Stanly M. What for Montano ? What's happened ? Are their spies in the camp ! SiG. C. Pies in cans ? Never heard of that concoction before ! Don R. {Screams.) Spies in the camp— fool ! SiG. C. Camp stool ? No, thanks, I like the chair best. ( Alllaugh uproarously. ) EuY E. Its an astonishing fact that deaf persons always will talk. (Pulls Comando.) Count M. Not spies, but a betrayer ! Stanly M. Name him, Luigi, and he shall taste a few inches of steel. You know that I am an adept at blood letting. Count M. Yes, Stanly, I am aware of it ; your skill is great and you probe the heart even unto death ! De M. Come to the point, Montano, life is short — don't preach— I hear enough of that. Don E. There's a clergyman, upon my word. In spite of your cloth, I do believe that your envious. SiG. C. Eneuiy ? I never was his enemy ! Don R. Who said you were, you donkey ? SiG. C. Not Don Ki— Don Rivero. [All laugh clapj)ing on table. Maitland rises, bows mockingly to Rivero, which the latter returns.) Buy E. (Bises bowing.) Don Ki Rivero, (Takes knife from table and taps him an the back.) Arise, Sir Don Ki Rivero, by command of Comando, who thus dubs thee by courtesy to perpetuate a future for all the little donkeys to come. " Arise, Sir Knight, how proud yoTi should be, Pray, rival Quixote in his true errantry. Be brave and fight for your noble country. But should you get wounded in arm or in knee. And from the battle would homeward flee, Give a parting kick like a true donkey." {All laugh shouting " we drink the health of the new Don Ki.") Count M. Gentlemen, please be serious, I have something to say. {He becomes agitated, sits down.) De M. Let me speak Montano. (He ibises.) Gentlemen, I believe that you will all endorse my sentiments when I say that we have always re- ceived the greatest hospitality at the hands of our friend, Montano. Omnes. We have ! we have ! Stanly M. Who ever doubted that ? De M. And you will confess that he is ever ready to assist his friends. Stanly M. And, I reiterate, who ever doubted that ? Omnes. He is ! he is ! De M. What would you say, then, if I told you that he has been betray- ed ; and what does the betrayer deserve ? Stanly M. Annihilation ! Don R. As I am a Don Ki, I vote for kicking him to death. RuY E. Feed him on " canned pies." SiG. C. Fly! Where? Can't fly— no wings. De M. Gentlemen, I am serious ; have done with this nonsense. Omnes. (Seriously.) We are ready to hear and to do. De M. In the first place, fill your glasses. (Theif do so ) I wish all here to drink the health of a newly wedded couple. Omnes. (Raise glasses.) To the newly wedded couple. Stanly M. The name, De Maurier, the name. De M. You will soon learn it ; they are not wedded yet, but will be in a few moments. Stanly M. Where will they be married ? Dk M. Here ! Omnes. Here ? Stanly M. Who will perform the cermony ? DeM. I will! Omnes. You ? De M. Yes. This will conclude our evening's entertainment— so our noble host told us. Whilst the table is cleared, we will listen to the music on the waters. ( They retire to the balcony. A gondola stops and the occupants sing. When finished, they glide past. — Two waitei's enter L. and clear the table quickly. They all come down steps from balcony. J D. R. Now we will have some fun. This is one of De Maurier's jokes. Stanly M. ^laughing). Where is the bride ? — 5 - Count M. This is no joke, gentlemen, and the bride will appear directly. (He comes centre, Iwsitates for a moment, then speaks.) Stanly Maitland, in the presence of your friends and mine, I offer you my daugh- ter's hand. OaiNES. Your daughter ! Have you a daughter ? Count M. Yes. (Agitated.) I await your answer. Stanly M. (ivho seems stwined, qidckly recovers.) I— I— regret, Mon- tano— although we are friends— great friends— that— that— it is impossible for me to accept your proposal. (Turns aside confusedhj.) Count M. But she loves you. I requested her to tell me the cause of her sadness, and she confided to me her great affection for you. If you will wed my child and make her happy, I will endow her with all I am possessed. As my trusted friend, you know the extent of my property. Stanly M. (aside.) Ally myself to him— I who have but to-day received such glorious news— never! (Aloud.) It is most strange, Montano, that you make this proposal before our friends. (In a passion.) I consider it an insult. Count M. My child is more dear to me than life. She is all that is left me of a happiness, ah! so short-lived. Your skill saved her almost from the grave ! She loves you. Stanley M. (aside.) Has she told him all ? No ! or he would have killed me! (Aloud.) Montano, I regret that I cannot comply with your request. I— I— that is — I do not love her. As you say, I— I saved her life ; I can do no more. Count M. Stanly, I— I— scarcely like to allude to the past — I mean our acquaintance. You were poor, without friends or money. You had just recovered from a severe illness. I found you seated near the river, perish- ing from actual want— homeless. I took you to my hotel, I gave you food, shelter, money. Stanly M. Yes, you did all that, but I do not intend to pay such a price in return. Once for all, Montano, have done with this farce. As you have chosen to take this ill-advised step before our friends, you must take the consequences. I will not marry your daughter. Count M. (with suppressed passion) Why not? Your reason? Omnes. Yes, Stanley, your reason. Don E. I wish that I had the chance. De M. Stanly, be advised— you are on a volcano! Stanly M. Let it burst forth — it will consume him, not me. Don't you interfere, De Maurier. Count M. Your reason, sir, your reason ! Stanly M. (in a rage,) Well, as you drive me to do it, I will tell you. No power on earth can compel me to marry a gambler's daughter. Count M. {icith contempA.) You are one yourself. Don E. Yes, and shared all the spoils. Omnes. Shame! shame! Stanly M. {maliciously.) If I am a gambler, if I shared the spoils, I do not add the name of " forger " to the list. Count M. Wretch! {Turning io the rest.) I have now done with entrea- ties— it is time to act. Gentlemen, will you stand by me ? Omnes. We will. Stanly M. {alarmed.) I will not stay to be insulted. (He attempts to go L. ) — 6 — DeMau. {intercepts him.) Stop! Count M. Thanks, De Maurier, (To the rest.) I will no longer delay informing you of this man's villainy. Gentlemen, my life has not a happy past nor pleasant future. But of that past I nourished a sweet budding flower. I tended it with anxious loving care— I shielded it from winter's rude blast and summer's scorching sun. Under this treatment my bud bloomed into an exotic so pure, so lovely— {Bursting iyito grief.) Oh! Je- dalia, my child, my sweet perfumed flower! You have been torn ruthlessly from the stem and left to die ! ("He recovers himself.) Pardon a father's grief. I will no longer speak in metaphors. Omnes. Depend on us, we will see you righted. Count M. My Jedalia is not aware that her father is a gambler, a— a— forger, so this man asserts. Were it in my power, I could prove that I never was the latter. But let that pass. I had her educated away from here. When old enough, I surrounded her with protection in a happy home, away from the gaieties of the city. She believes me an honorable, inde- pendent gentleman. Don R. You are a gentleman. Count M. (hows.) An illness seized my child. The physicians could not fathom the cause. Distracted with grief, I made Stanly Maitland ray con- fident. He then told me that he had practiced as physician, that he was an American doctor in the army and had cured the most desperate cases. I brought him to the bedside of my child, and— and he saved her— only to bring ruin and disgrace upon her. Gentlemen, under the garb of physician and friend, Stanly Maitland betrayed my child. Stanly M. {sneerlngly.) And you call that love ? Bah ! Her affection for me must indeed be great, to confess this to you. You are not going to en- trap me, Montano— I will not marry her. Count M. We will see. De Maurier, prepare— (De Maurier hastily improvises an altar. Rivero assists him, as do the rest. De Maurier draws forth a surplice from a valise, dons it. Stanley attempts to ioalk out, but is stopped by De Maurier who points a pistol at the former's head. ) De M. My clothes prevent my sheding human blood ; but, if you at- tempt to quit this room, I will shoot you down as I would a mad dog. Stanly M. (aside.) What shall I do? I am at their mercy. I hate her. I wish I had never seen her. Supposing I let them perform this farcical marriage, I can repudiate it afterwards. There are a thousand ways of escape then— ?ioio there are none. Yes, I must submit, or I cannot get away ; and it is important to do so, after the joyful news of this morning. {Aloud.) I tell you that I protest against this shameful plot. Count M. {with determination.) You can protest as much as you like, but you slmll make an honest woman of my child. (Rings bell. Enter R. Jedalia, dressed in white, a tulle veil covering her whole form. She leans on Petra. The Count throws his arms around her. The gentlemen bow, Stanly turns away. Jedalia agitated.) Gentlemen, my daughter Jedalia. Don R. {aside.) How lovely she is ! Count M. Go on, De Maurier. Stanly M. Yes, go on with this farce, you cowards ; go on with this mock marriage. My life is too dear to me, and I will not sacrifice it to— — 7— Count M. (ivith a terrible look.) Perform the ceremony quickly, De Mau- rier, so that I may not injure the husband of my child. (He takes ring out of vest pocket and presses it to his lips with a look of agony.) With this ring I wedded your mother, my Jedalia. Lilce yourself she was but 15 years. (Ihey retire back. The marriage ceremony is performed quickly ; the certificate is signed. Maitland makes the responses in a sullen tone. All congratulate the young bride. Sorrowfully Jedalia puts veil aside from face.) Don K. {aside.) How beautiful she is! Ah! why did I not meet her. And he, that wretch, to repudiate so sweet a flower! De M. Count Montano, I congratulate you upon the step which you have taken in this matter. I rejoice that I was here to perform the cere- mony. But it has sobered me and taught me a lesson. I am an ordained priest, yet have been led into scenes and gaieties ill befitting my vocation. I have committed this error through a gay disposition. I beg now to ten- der my best wishes and farewell. (During the speech, Jedalia looks innocently from De Maurier to her father, sur- prise depicted on her face. The rest bow and exeunt L. Petra goes off R. D. Don Rivero casts a long, lingering look at Jedalia. Count Montano places certificate in his breast, then clasps Jedalia to his heart. Stanly looks on sullenly. Jedalia advances towards Stanly — looks supplicatingly at him. Jedalia. Will you not speak to me, dear Stanly? I— I— love you so much! Stanly M. {savagely.) You have given me proof of it. Jedalia. Dear Stanly, I have obeyed my father's commands. Have you not sworn again and again that you love me— that you would make me your wife. I will be so loving, so obedient to you. Stanly M. Your father and yourself have laid this plot against me. You are my wife. Madam— so you say. Well, I will support you, but I will not acknowledge you publicly. Jedalia {tearfully.) Why, Stanly ? Have I not always loved you ? Stanly M. If you wish to know the reason why, ask your father ! (Jedalia looks from one to the other wringing her hands ) Count M. {intreatingly.) For the love of heaven, Stanly, do not expose my secret to this innocent child ! Stanly M. {derisively.) Innocent? Count M. Innocent until you made her guilty ! Jedalia.' Oh father ! what is it— what secret ? Stanly M. Aye— let him tell you, or I will. Count M. {clasping his hands agitatedly.) Mercy, Stanly, do have mercy! Jedalia, Why will he not acknowledge me. father ? Stanly M. Because your father is a gambler, a debauched roue, and a forger ! Jedalia utters a shriek. Count Montano draws a pistol from his breast, places it to his temple and fires — he falls to the ground. Jedalia flings herself upon his body. Stanly stands for a moment horror stricken, then rushes to the balcony and climbs over. Jedalia remains senseless. Hurried music through this scene.) TABLEAU. END OF PROLOGUE, ACT I.— My Companion. SCENE I. (Breakfast room in an elegant house in Park Lane, London. Breakfast laid for two. As the curtain rises, the Earl of Eglinton discovered with the Countess. She assists him. Appointments superb. An elapse of ten years has taken place. Lively opening music. L. E. (assistmg her.) Well, love, so you have succeeded at last ? Lady E. Yes, dear Harold, I am so glad that I have engaged her. She seems in mourning for someone. I did not ask her for whom. She is sweet in manner and perfectly beautiful ! E. E. If you are satisfied, my darling, ado, so am I. Lady E. How indifferent you are, Harold. You would not be so were you to see her. L. E. I have my eyes for my Ada. Other women do not impress me. Lady E. Dear Harold, how happy I am. We have now been married four years, but I find no change in you. You surround me with attention, and your first thought is always for your Ada. L. E. And ever will be. Your recent illness frightened me terribly. Kemember, dearest, you were a ward of chancery. I had great difficulty to obtain my little wife, and I hold you as the dearest treasure of my life. Lady E. You will spoil me, Harold ? L. E. You are too perfect to be spoilt. I am really delighted to think that I can now leave you in safety with a companion. Your time will pass pleasantly indoors, as the Doctor has forbidden all gaiety for a while. It makes me happy to think that I persuaded you to advertise. Lady E. You are always so thoughtful, Harold. L. E. I regret to leave you, dearest. You must take great care of your- self during my absence. I am almost induced to resign. It is detestable, this constant travelling to Spain. But, as attache, I am compelled to at- tend matters of importance there. Lady E. How long will you be absent ? L. E. Six weeks. It seems an eternity. But under no circumstances can I lessen the time— unless I resign. Lady E. You must not do so, it would destroy your career— now at its very brightest. It will be more cheerful for me as I have a companion ; a con- genial one, I am sure. (Clapf, hands with childish glee.) She comes to-day. I am so glad that you are still here. You can see her before your departure. I tru^t that you will approve of my selection. L. E. As long as you are pleased, so am I. I hope that her character will bear inspection. Lady E. Oh ! quite so. She brings credentials from Lady Kingsly. I had so many applications, but chose her out of all of them ! (Enter footman L. D., with card on silver salver. The Earl takes card and reads.) L. E, Miss Agnes Sherwood ! - 9 — Lady E. My Companion. {To footman.) Show the lady into this room, (Exit footman.) L. E. I will retire, dearest, and fini.-ili my letters, as I must leave to-dav ; besides, my presence may embarrass the lady. (The Earl pats the Countess on the rJteek and exits R. D. into inner room. En- ter the footnum B. L. He ushers in 3[iss Agnes Sherwood, then bowing, e,vits L. Lady, E. {advances.) Pray, be seated, Miss Sherwood. May I enquire for whom you are in mourn iny ? Agnes. I have worn black for many years, madam. I have lost all those I love. (Slgh'nuj.) There are the credentials as to my respectability. This packet contains many letters from Lady Kingsly. You will perceive that she treated me more like a friend than a companion. Now I again stand alone in the world. (Raises: eijes to Heaven.) Lady E. {taking her hand.) You are alone no longer. Miss Sherwood, I will be your friend. Agnes, {lolth a surprised look and bright smile.) Madam ! Lady E. When we are better accpiainted, I hope that you will tell me the history of your life. Lord Eglinton's office as attache compels his frequent absence. My delicate health will not permit me to travel at present. I do so long for a true friend— one in whom I can confide. Agnes. I will be that, if you permit me, madam. Lady E. I have a large circle of so-called friends— and—and acquaint- ances—but a companion— a home friend, that is altogether different. (Agnes kneels at the feet of the Countess, she takes her hand and presses it to her lips. ) Agnes. Dear madam, have I found the home at last that I have sought for so long? I will be a sister to you, and watch you tenderly. Y'ou are very young— and look delicate. Lady E. I am twenty. Just think, Miss Sherwood, I have been married tour years -and oh ! so hapi>y! But you must not be sad— I will cheer you. Agnes. I will change my sombre colors, if you wish ? Lady E. Not if it distresses you. How is it that Lady Kingsly did not provide for you ? Agnes. Her income died with her. Indeed she was not wealthy. But* she gave me what I value far more than money — vast experience and a thorough knowledge of the world. Lady E. As you have been such a traveller, no doubt that you speak foreign languages. Agnes. Several, madam ! Lady E. Delightful ! Are you musical ? Agnes. I play and sing. Lady E. I fear that I will grow too fond of you. The Earl is very jealous of my affections. Agnes. Then you must not give him cause— on— only like me a little. (She speaks this plai(fully, smiles J Lady E. How beautiful you are when you smile. I cannot imagine why you are single. Agnes, (.sadbj.) It is not always beauty that wins. (The Countess rings bell, enter footman L ) — 10- Lady E. Tell the housekeeper I wish to see her. {Exit footman L. D.) My housekeeper is quite a character, Miss 8her\vood. She has been in our family for years. She was my dear mother's maid. I lost botli my parents when I was very young. On my marriage, I induced Julia Foxall to reside with me as my housekeeper. We seldom notice her eccentricities. (Enter 3Ii's. Foxall from centre arch. She curtsies to Countess.) FoxALL. I have been informed that my lady wishes to see me. (Curtsies again ) Lady E. Foxall, this is Miss Sherwood, my companion. (Miss Sherwood remains seated, but bows smilingly, lohich Foxall returns by an inclination of the head, but no curtsey. ) Lady E. I wish you to conduct Miss Sherwood to her room ; and you will kindly see that she is made comfortable. Foxall. All your wishes are laws, my lady. {She cnrtsiei^.) Will Miss Sherwood please follow me ? (Agnes rises, and bowing gracefully to the Countess, follows Foxall centre arch and e.xeunt. The Countess goes toward D. R. Lady E. {calling.) Harold, Harold! have you finished your letters ? (Enter D. R. Earl of Eglinton. ) L. E. Yes ! But you did not give me time to seal them. Lady E. {with enthusiasm.) Oh, Harold! I am perfectly delighted. My companion is not alone very beautiful, but she is highly accomplished. L. E. Dear me, Ada, what raptures. No one is beautiful in my eyes but you, my darling. I have told you so a thousand times. Lady E. Even Foxall was struck with her beauty. L. E. Well, well, dear! {Impatiently.) I have not the slightest curiosity. But as to Foxall being .^ttruck by anything is wonderful. I do not think she ever was struck— even when she was a little girl. Oh, yes she was, though yesterday, {laughing.) when your venerable grandpa -I mean his portrait— fell on her head. Oh, well, ado! You will not miss me now. Lady E. Harold, I do believe that you are jealous. * L. E. Why ? Has my complexion turned yellow ? Lady E. No ! -black ! You, look so cross. _ L. E. I do not want my little wife to be constantly thinking of her com- panion on the eve of my departiire. LadyE. Oh, very well! {Counting on Iter fingers.) I am to think of Harold for breakfast, Harold for luncheon, Harold for dinner. L. E. {laughing.) What a little cannibal. (He presses her and sttrokes her hair.) ( The centre arch curtains are moved aside and Agnes is seen. Tlie Earl stands with face towards the audience. Agnes, about to enter, stops.) I confess that I am a little jealous of the new comer. [Miss Sherwood starts and turns ghastly pale. She totters as if about to faint, with an effort she controls herself and remains listening, concealed by curtains. Lady E. Do you love me so very much ? L. E. So much, Ada, that the four years of our wedded life seems but as a day. Were I not convinced of your affection, I could not leave you. Lady E. I never loved any other but you, dear Harold, and never will. -11- L. E. My own, sweet little wife, no woman can ever lure me from your side. Now, I must seal my letters, dearest. Lady E. I will go with you, Harold. L. E. Who is jealous now ? You wish to discover if I am dispatching any love letters. Lady E. Oh, oh, Harold ! I never doubted you! L. E. Well, dear, you shall press your lips to the seal before I use it, and the ministers will w'onder what exquisite perfume I use. ( They go to D. R. and exetint. ) [Agnes comes forward exciiedly.) Agnes. It is he— it is he! changed— Oh! so changed— but I cannot be mistaken in the voice. It rings in my ears now as it did ten years ago. It haunted me then— it haunts me now. {Claapsher hamh excitedhj.) At last— at last! I have found liiui. In vain I souglit for Stanly Maitland, the great American doctor. No one could give me information— none knew of him. He loves her— ha, ha, ha ! That baby face to hold him ! She to ob- literate me in his heart and mind ! She to gain the life and soul of the man I could have grovelled in tlie dust for. His wife— ha, ha, ha ! —his for- ever! We will see— yes— we y/trt// see ! Ten years of a tortured life have changed me to. Ten weary years with a smouldering volcano in my breast. The Earl of Eglinton— the Englisli aristocrat !— how could I dream that he deceived so well. And now I have him in my power — my ven- gence will be great. He is my husband and yet another woman's. i^Laugh- ing ivUdhj.) He is a bigamist ! The most noble— the Earl of Eglinton is a bigamist ! One word of mine— hurls him into a piison. One word of mine — robs him of his wife— his treasure. Ha, ha, ha,\— fiend! Stanly Maitland, you are trapped ! I am master of the position, now ! (She walls to and fro, than goes towards D. R. She looks through curtains ) He is at the desk— her arms ax'e around his neck. {R'l^es towering.) Oh! how I hate her! He looks up into her face— what an expression of love. {Covers her face loith her hands.) He never looked like that at me— it is reverence, it is respect. Their lips meet {Slie shrieks.) I cannot bear it— I must not stay -I dare not look any longer or I will lose my senses. {Nervoushj.) And I have to be calm. He must not suspect that Jedalia, the wronged wife, is under his roof. In this change, this clever disguise, he will not recognize the broken-hearted, betrayed child whom he repu- diated. Yes, I ivlll be calm— I will undergo the ordeal of this meeting. I wil go to my room to recover. (Exit centre arch, tottering.) [Enter Fo.vall followed by Pardoe, the butler. She rings bell. Enter footman L. He takes out tray with breakfast things and exits L. Foxall and Pardoe look at each other — Advance a few stejis — Stop — and so thrice fuss. FoxALL. I don't like the looks of her, Pardoe. Pardoe. Ah! {Shakes his head.) FoxALL. I am glad to hear you say so to. Pardoe. Ugh ! {Places Ids hand to Jus brow.) Foxall. That's just my opinion. She's a living, breathing Mount Ver- survious— that's what she is. Pardoe. Hem ! (Places ids liand on his heart and shakes his head.) Foxall. That's just it, Pardoe ; them there red headed women gets all the fire there (Points lo Jiead) instead of here. {Points to heart.) Pardoe. Ah ! — 12 — FoxALL. I've had a dream, Pardee -a awful drearft. Pardoe. Ah aha ah! (Long ch-aum out.) FoxALL, A shipwreck, Pardoe. Pakdoe. Ugh, ugh, ugh! {SJiudders.) FoxALL. Yes, an' them as I love were on board. I saw 'em go down, down, down— Pardoe— to the bottom of the sea, and my lady floated by like a merrymaid, then suddingly she changed to a dark woman with black hair like Miss— Miss Sherwood's— I means the face. Pardoe. {pointing to head— shaking it.) No! FoxALL. Well, supposing her's is red now, she might 'a changed the color— die is cheap. Pardoe. Hem, hem! Fox ALL. Ah! I understand. All the men are alike. Red hair, light hair, black hair— as long as she's young and handsome. Pardoe. Ah! {Bubs }iands smilingly.) FoxALL. I tell you, that girl's face tells a history, or I'm greatly mis- taken. I have'nt been ladies' maid for years without understanding the face, expression and make-up. {Exeunt both D. L.) (Enter D. R. the Earl ami CuxiUess, and from ceiiire arch Miss Sherwood. The Earl starts, looks unth surprise at her beanti/; e:cprr'. the waltz to long — ah — you dance so— ah — devinely — pon honor, ah — could dance with you— ah— to the end of my life. L. E. (sarca.slicaVy.) Ladies who indulge in round dances, envariably end in fainting on their partner's shoulder. It is romantic and sensational. Skeggs. I don't think so. " To make short of my story," it's scarcely decent. Agnes. I regret that I have disturbed this i)leasant evening. I— I M'as overcome by the heat. Have you a v'uiaigrette, my lady ? Lady E. Yes, Miss Sherwood. (Hands U.) Agnes. Thanks, madam, you are very kind. Skeggs vrf/Y((6"/i o«/). Ah! "To make short of my story," too much i)o- liteness. [Miss She/'wood is .•sealed, centre. Earl and ('ountess R., the rest grouped round.) Agnes. Si)eaking of the sensational reminds me of extraordinary occur- rences one hears. I was told of a strange one, from life. Sir G. Ah, do relate it. Miss Sherwood. It must be— ah -interesting— ah— coming fi'om your — ah — lips. Agnes. What flattery, (tihe laaghs