(_Fragment found between the St. James's and Haymarket Theatres_).
AUNT AUGUSTA (_an Aunt_).
COUSIN CICELY (_a Ward_).
ALGY (_a Flutterpate_).
DORIAN (_a Button-hole_).
THE DUKE OF BERWICK.
TIME--_The other day._ _The_ SCENE _is in a garden, and begins and
ends with relations_.
_Algy_ (_eating cucumber-sandwiches_). Do you know, Aunt AUGUSTA, I am
afraid I shall not be able to come to your dinner to-night, after all.
My friend BUNBURY has had a relapse, and my place is by his side.
_Aunt Augusta_ (_drinking tea_). Really, ALGY! It will put my table
out dreadfully. And who will arrange my music?
_Dorian._ _I_ will arrange your music, Aunt AUGUSTA. I know all about
music. I have an extraordinary collection of musical instruments. I
give curious concerts every Wednesday in a long latticed room, where
wild gipsies tear mad music from little zithers, and I have brown
Algerians who beat monotonously upon copper drums. Besides, I have set
myself to music. And it has not marred me. I am still the same. More
so, if anything.
_Cicely._ Shall you _like_ dining at WILLIS'S with Mr. DORIAN
to-night, Cousin ALGY?
_Algy_ (_evasively_). It's much nicer being here with you, Cousin
CICELY.
_Aunt Augusta._ Sweet child! I see distinct social probabilities in
her profile. Mr. DORIAN has a beautiful nature. And it is _such_ a
blessing to think that he was not brought up in a handbag, like so
many young men of the present day.
_Algy._ It is such a blessing, Aunt AUGUSTA, that a woman always grows
exactly like her aunt. It is such a curse that a man never grows
exactly like his uncle. It is the greatest tragedy of modern life.
_Dorian._ To be really modern one should have no soul. To be really
mediæval one should have no cigarettes. To be really Greek----
[_The_ Duke of BERWICK _rises in a marked manner, and leaves the
garden_.
_Cicely_ (_writes in her diary, and then reads aloud dreamily_). "The
Duke of BERWICK rose in a marked manner, and left the garden. The
weather continues charming." ...
* * * * *