family. People ought to be careful what they say. The very least that happens is that they tell you some scandal or dishonesty or something of the sort about Mr. So-and-so—that he is this way or that he is that way, and the next thing you know he turns out to be your father. And a person who would talk like that about your father, what wouldn't he say about your uncle or your cousins or any one else in the family? And there you are!
The Conductor enters.
Conductor. Good afternoon.
Lady. The tickets, child! What have you done with the tickets?
Young Lady. Why, you have them, mamma!
Lady. No, my dear; I gave them to you—the last time they came round. I am so sorry— [The cat begins to howl.] My dear! [The Young Lady begins to sing.] I can't find them; you must have them. What's that? Ah, yes! Of course! Wait a minute. Here they are
Conductor. Thank you. Good afternoon. [He goes out.
Young Lady. What did you ask me for? You knew perfectly well that I couldn't stop singing.
Lady. I wonder what that animal has against the conductor? I told you it was a nuisance; now judge for yourself. If it wasn't that my relations with my sister-in-law are a little bit strained—you understand—I don't want to give her a chance to do any talking—Well, the fact is she wasn't pleased because I married a second time. Just as if I would be likely to forget my first husband any sooner on that account! Put yourself in my place. Suppose you had been a widow of twenty-six without any visible means of support, and the man who was in love with you, without any offense to his predecessor, without reflecting upon his merits in the least, was the best man in the world—I ought
