Gla. Well, what does this mean? (Drops in chair, R.) Don't you think she was awfully stiff, even for her? Do you suppose she suspects anything?
Kit. (munching cracker). Mercy, no. She is just nervous over the excitement of to-night, and the prospect of meeting some real, live, young men has quite upset her—oh, dear! (Giggles affectedly.) But where are our men?
Gla. That's what I want to know.
Kit. Folded their grips like the Arab and silently stolen away. I hope they haven't stolen anything else. (Looks about the room suspiciously.)
Gla. I should think they were polite. What does it mean?
Kit. Well, it evidently means that they weren't as hungry as they pretended, for one thing. And they can't find any night lunch anywhere else in this benighted town, that's one comfort. Oh, I'll be quits with him yet for his hateful remarks about those letters!
Gla. Well, we sha'n't have any guests for tea to-night it seems, now all the birdies have flown.
Kit. I'm glad of it—all the more left for us. Have an olive, do. (Goes to table again, and passes olives to Gladys.) I'm as hungry as a bear.
Gla. He might at least have left his card. Mercy, Kittie! They must have gone to find out about Mabel and Emma. They will inquire—oh, supposing they had met Miss Griffin and asked her.
Kit. Perhaps they did.
Gla. Oh, do you suppose so—and that was why she looked so queer? Oh, dear, Kittie. What shall we do?
(Tap on door, C.; Kittie rises and receives note from outside. Comes down centre with it.)
Kit. A note addressed to you and me. It must be from the boys to explain. (Gladys comes and reads over her shoulder.)
Gla. No, it isn't. It's from Miss Griffin. I know that writing. Read it, Kittie, quick.
Kit. (reading). "Miss Griffin requests to see the Misses Courtenay and Goldthwaite in her room at six in regard to their highly unladylike conduct in corresponding with two young men under assumed names." (Looks at watch.) And it's past five now.
Gla. (falls into a chair, R., sobbing). I knew it!
Kit. (pacing the room distractedly). How did she ever find out? How did she?
Gla. It was those b-b-boys! (Sobs.)
Kit. (defiantly). Well, it is nothing to be ashamed of, anyway. They are our brother and cousin.
Gla. But she won't believe it. O Kittie, she won't let us go to the reception to-night. And we shall be expelled. I know
