rescue). Excuse me, young Sir, but I don't think you quite realise who that lady is. (With mild self-assertion.) She is my wife, Sir, my Wife! And she is not accustomed to being hunted all over Upper Tooting, or anywhere else!

Mr. Jannaway (to himself). I've got this dear lady on toast. I can see! But I mustn't do anything ungentlemanly or I may get the sack if the governor gets to hear of it. (Aloud.) If I'm mistaken I'm ready to apologise; but the lady bears such a really remarkable likeness to a Mrs. Tomkinson Jones, residing (so she gave me to understand) at The Laburnums, Upper Tooting, that——

Mrs. Toovey (finding her voice). I do not reside at Upper Tooting!

Mr. Jann. (in silky tones). Precisely so, Madam. No more does Mrs.—hem—Tomkinson Jones!

Charles. And is that the only point of resemblance between your friend Mrs. Jones and my Aunt, eh?

Mr. Jann. That's a matter of opinion, Sir. I've my own. But neither the lady nor yet myself are particularly likely to forget our meeting. It was only last Saturday evening, too!

Mr. Toov. Why, then you must have met Mrs. Toovey at the Zenana Mission Conference?

Mr. Jann. Well that isn't the name I know it by; but if the lady prefers it, why——

Mrs. Toov. (hoarsely). I—I deny having ever met the young man before, anywhere; that is, I—I don't remember doing so. Take him away!

Mr. Jann. I should be most averse, of course, to contradicting a lady, and I can only conclude that she is so much in the 'abit of fetching unoffending strangers what I may venture to term, if you'll permit the vulgarity, a slap in the jaw, that such a trifling circumstance makes no impression on her. It did on me!

Mr. Toov. (outraged). Young man! are you endeavouring to suggest that my wife goes about—er—administering "slaps in the jaw" to perfect strangers at Zenana meetings?

Mr. Jann. Pardon me, I said nothing whatever about any—er—Pyjama meetings. I don't know what may go on there, I'm sure. The incident I alluded to occurred at the Eldorado music-hall.

Mrs. Toov. (to herself). There; it's out at last! What have I done to deserve this?

Charles (to himself). The Eldorado! Why, Thea said——What can Aunt have been up to? She's got herself into the very deuce of a hole!

[Curphew and Althea exchange significant glances.

Mr. Toov. At the Eldorado? Now, do you know that's very singular—that really is very singular indeed! You're the second person who fancied Mrs. Toovey was there last Saturday evening! So that you see there must have been a lady there most extraordinarily like my wife!

Mrs. Toov. (to herself). Dear, good, simple Pa; he believes in me! After all, I've only to deny everything; he can't prove I was there! (Aloud.) Yes, Sir, and on a mere resemblance like that you have the audacity to bring these shameful charges against me—me! All you have succeeded in establishing is that you were in the music-hall yourself, and I doubt whether your employer would approve of a clerk of his spending his time in such places, if it came to his ears!

Mr. Jann. It's very kind of you to concern yourself on my account, Madam; but there's no occasion. It was Mr. Larkins himself gave me the ticket; so I'm not at all uneasy.

"Why, Cornelia, my love, so you've found your spectacles!"

Mr. Toov. Why, dear me, that must have been the ticket Mr. Curphew—I should say, Mr. Walter Wildfire—sent me. I remember I left it with Mr. Larkins in case he could find a use for it. So you were in my box; quite a coincidence, really!

Mr. Jann. As you say, Sir, and not the only one neither, seeing that——

Mrs. Toov. Pa, isn't it time this young man finished the business he came about, and went away? I am not accustomed to seeing my drawing-room made use of as an office!

Mr. Toov. (snatching up the transfer). By all means, my love. (To Mr. J.) Er, I really think we should be more comfortable in the study. There—there's a bigger inkstand.

[He leads the way to the door.

Mr. Jann. (following). As you please, Sir. (Turning at the door.) I must say I think I've been most cruelly misunderstood. If I've been anxious for the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Tomkinson Jones again, any revengeful motives or lowness of that description was far from my thoughts, my sole object being to restore a piece of property which the lady, whoever she may have been, left behind her, and which, as I 'appen to have brought it with me, would, if recognised, settle any question of identity on the spot. But that can wait for the present. Business first, pleasure afterwards!

[He goes out. A silence. Presently a succession of violent sniffs proceed from behind "The Quiver." All rise in concern.

Charles. I say, Aunt, you're not going to give way now, are you? That fellow hasn't frightened you?

Alth. (kneeling down and embracing Mrs. T.). Dearest mamma, don't you think you'd better tell us all about it? It was you who slapped that horrid little man's face—now, wasn't it? And serve him right!

Mrs. T. (in a burst). I took him for your father! Oh, what have I said? I never meant to admit anything! And what must you all think of me?

Curph. No one who has had the benefit of your opinions of music-halls or their entertainers, can possibly imagine you went to one with any idea of amusing yourself, Mrs. Toovey.

Mrs. Toov. (without heeding him). And Pa, what will he say? When I think of all the wicked stories I've had to tell that poor dear man! And after he once finds them out, there's an end of all his respect for me, all my influence over him, all my power in this house—everything! Why, for anything I can tell, Pa may actually believe I went to that detestable place on what (to Curphew) I suppose your friends would call the—the (utterly breaking down) Tee-hiddle-dy-hi!

Charles (after a highly suspicious fit of choking). Don't think there's any danger of that, Aunt; but look here, how if I went into the study and kicked that little cad out, eh?

Mrs. Toov. And have the whole affair in the police reports! You're a pretty solicitor, Charles! But Pa knows by now, and oh, what in the world am I to do?

Charles. Well, my dear Aunt, it sounds an immoral suggestion, but, as you seem to have given Uncle a—hem—slightly picturesque version of your doings last Saturday, hadn't you better stick to it?

Mrs. Toov. What's the use? Didn't you hear that wretch say he'd found something in the box? It's my spectacles, Charles; a pair in a Rob Roy tartan case, which Pa gave me himself, and couldn't help recognising! I remember now, I