Part 22 (2/2)

VALENTINE (_gravely_). Your servant, Miss Livvy.

PHOEBE (_weakly_). How do you do?

VALENTINE. Allow me, Miss Susan.

(_He takes_ MISS SUSAN'S _place; but after an exquisite moment_ MISS PHOEBE _breaks away from him, feeling that she is not worthy of such bliss._)

PHOEBE. No, no, I--I can walk alone--see.

(_She reclines upon the couch._)

MISS SUSAN. How do you think she is looking?

(_He makes a professional examination of the patient, and they are very ashamed to deceive him, but not so ashamed that they must confess._)

What do you think?

VALENTINE (_solemnly_). She will recover. May I say, ma'am, it surprises me that any one should see much resemblance between you and your Aunt Phoebe. Miss Phoebe is decidedly shorter and more thick-set.

PHOEBE (_sitting up_). No, I am not.

VALENTINE. I said Miss Phoebe, ma'am. (_She reclines._) But tell me, is not Miss Phoebe to join us?

PHOEBE. She hopes you will excuse her, sir.

MISS SUSAN (_vaguely_). Taking the opportunity of airing the room.

VALENTINE. Ah, of course.

MISS SUSAN (_opening bedroom door and catting mendaciously_). Captain Brown will excuse you, Phoebe.

VALENTINE. Certainly, Miss Susan. Well, ma'am, I think I could cure Miss Livvy if she is put unreservedly into my hands.

MISS SUSAN (_with a sigh_). I am sure you could.

VALENTINE. Then you are my patient, Miss Livvy.

PHOEBE (_nervously_). 'Twas but a pa.s.sing indisposition, I am almost quite recovered.

VALENTINE. Nay, you still require attention. Do you propose making a long stay in Quality Street, ma'am?

PHOEBE. I--I--I hope not. It--it depends.

MISS SUSAN (_forgetting herself_). Mary is the worst.

VALENTINE. I ask your pardon?

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