[_Several Ladies put up their glasses, and examine her critically, as if
they had rather expected this confession. Sudden burst of Society
Chatter from without._
SOCIETY CHATTER. How d'ye do?... Oh, but her parties never _are_!... How
are you?... No, I left her at .... Yes, he's somewhere about.... Saw you
in the Row this mornin'.... Are you doing anything on----?... Oh, _what_
a shame!... No, but _doesn't_ she now?... No earthly use trying to get
in at present ... &c., &c.
MISS FRESIA B. (_beginning again, with meek despair, a little louder_).
I am only a Cowboy; reckless, rough, in an unconventional suit of
clothes;
I hain't, as a rule, got much to say, and my conversation is mostly
oaths.
[_Cries of "Ssh!" intended, however, for the people outside, who are
chattering harder than ever._