ordinary person! (Reads.) "But need I remind you that you have taken upon yourself a charge of wardship"—what in the world is a charge of wardship?—"which, as you yourself know, may end in Consequences . . ."
Captain G. (aside).—It's safest to let 'em see everything as they come across it; but 'seems to me that there are exceptions to the rule. (Aloud.) I told you that there was nothing to be gained from re-arranging my table.
Mrs. G. (absently).—What does the woman mean? She goes on talking about Consequences—"almost inevitable Consequences" with a capital C—for half a page. (Flushing scarlet.) Oh, good gracious! How abominable!
Captain G. (promptly).—Do you think so? Doesn't it show a sort of motherly interest in us? (Aside.) Thank Heaven, Harry always wrapped her meaning up safely. (Aloud.) Is it absolutely necessary to go on with the letter, darling?
Mrs. G.—It's impertinent—it's simply horrid. What right has this woman to write in this way to you? She oughtn't to.
Captain G.—When you write to the Deercourt girl I notice that you generally fill three or four sheets. Can't you let an old woman babble on paper once in a way? She means well.
Mrs. G.—I don't care. She shouldn't write, and if she did, you ought to have shown me her letter.
Captain G.—Can't you understand why I kept it to myself, or must I explain at length—as I explained the farcy-buds?
Mrs. G. (furiously).—Pip, I hate you! This is as bad as those idiotic saddle-bags on the floor. Never mind whether it would please me or not, you ought to have given it to me to read.
Captain G.—It comes to the same thing. You took it yourself.
Mrs. G.—Yes, but if I hadn't taken it, you wouldn't have
