another, when, in spite of me, her presence _will_ recall the past,
painful, humiliating as it is!
JULIA (_with indifference_). Your friend has left you, Mr. Barton?
BART. He has, _Miss Templeton;_ but he has left an advocate to
intercede with you on his behalf.
JULIA (_satirically_). A willing and an earnest one, no doubt, who
probably has already furnished him with a detailed catalogue of my
tastes, habits, pursuits, disposition--
BART. (_aside_). He's been blabbing! (_Aloud._) Surely he cannot have
betrayed my confidence?
JULIA (_with suppressed anger_). The charge of "betrayal of
confidence" should rather be levelled at one who by his intimacy with
a family, into which he is admitted on terms of friendship, is enabled
to study the characters of its members for the purpose of retailing
the result of his observations to others!
BART. I will not affect to misunderstand your reproof. It is true that
I spoke of you to Mr. Royston in terms which you fully merit--that I
even told him your heart was free.
JULIA. Perfectly, absolutely free! You undertook to be his advocate
with such zeal, such earnestness, one might almost imagine you had
some personal interest.
BART. And what if I _had_ an interest--a _powerful_ interest?
JULIA (_quickly_). Indeed?
BART. Yes. And after the somewhat harsh rejection I met with at your
hands--which, no doubt, I fully merited--what greater proof can I give
of the esteem in which I still hold you than to confide my secret to
you?
JULIA (_starting_). A secret? (_Aside._) What can he mean?
BART. That, on the eve of leaving your family, I should feel far less
regret could I but indulge in the hope of ever becoming connected with
it by a closer tie.
JULIA (_aside, and joyfully_). Can it be? Has he forgotten--forgiven?
Can he still care for me? (_Aloud._) But why this silence--this want
of confidence in me?
BART. Frankly, because we feared you would oppose our wishes, our
hopes.
JULIA (_eagerly_). _Our_ hopes? _We_ feared?
BART. Yes! She especially.
JULIA. _She?_ Of whom are you speaking? Her name?
BART. Surely I must have mentioned it? Your sister.
JULIA (_starting from her chair_). Josephine!
BART. Yes; rejected by her elder sister, I sought and found solace and
consolation in her goodness and sympathy.
JULIA (_with increasing anger_). So! Your frequent visits, your
constant presence here, apparently so inconsistent with your "wounded
feelings" (_satirically_), are now explained! It was for _her!_ And
_I_ was to be kept in ignorance--to fancy, to believe, to hope--
BART. (_surprised_). Miss Templeton!
JULIA. I now understand this anxiety to dispose of my hand--this crowd
of admirers thrown in my way! What mattered _my_ feelings--_my_
happiness? I was an obstacle to be removed! (_with increasing
excitement_).
BART. I implore you--
JULIA (_stamping her foot_). Silence, sir!
_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON hurriedly at R. H._
MRS. T. What is the matter here? Julia! what means this
excitement--this agitation? Perhaps you, sir (_to BARTON_)--
BART. I am as much surprised as yourself, madam! I ventured to confide
to Miss Julia my pretensions to the hand of her sister--
MRS. T. (_with a scream_). What! You had the _cruelty,_ the
_barbarity_ to make such an avowal to her elder sister? (_advancing
upon BARTON, who retreats_)--to lacerate her feelings! to wound her
pride!
JULIA. Yes, that's it!--to wound my pride!
BART. But really--
MRS. T. Silence, young man! I remember what _my_ feelings were when my
younger sister was married before me. I was choking, sir! suffocating,
sir! I turned positively purple! all sorts of colors, sir! And here is
a little pert, forward chit, daring to follow her Aunt Dorothy Jane's
example!--but here she comes. (_Enter COLONEL from R. H., and
JOSEPHINE from L. H._) So, miss (_advancing angrily on JOSEPHINE_), a
pretty account I've heard of you! To mix yourself up at _your_ age in
a silly romance--a nonsensical love-intrigue--
COL. (_interfering_). But, my dear Martha--
MRS. T. (_turning sharply on him_). Hold _your_ tongue, Cousin Samuel!
JOSEPHINE. But, aunt, if you'll only allow me--
MRS. T. But I _won't_ allow you! (_To JULIA._) Keep up your spirits,
poor persecuted victim!
JOSEPHINE. Victim? It seems to me that _I'm_ the victim! Just as I
thought I was going to be married and settled! (_beginning to sob;
COLONEL tries to pacify her_).
MRS. T. Married and settled, indeed! A child--a baby like you! (_To
BARTON._) After what has occurred, sir, you will see that your further
presence under this roof--
BART. (_bowing_). I fully understand, madam!
MRS. T. (_to JOSEPHINE_). Come, miss, follow me! (_JOSEPHINE about to
speak._) Not a word! It is for _me_ to speak, as you'll find I intend
to do, and to some purpose. This way! (_making JOSEPHINE pass before
her; she and JULIA follow her out at R. H._).
COL. Wheugh! here's a pretty piece of business!
BART. Not satisfied with rejecting me herself, she carries her
prejudice, her hate so far as to--
COL. Hate? nonsense! (_Suddenly._) By Jove! I have it!--at least I
think I have. What if she should feel a "sneaking kindness" for you,
after all?
BART. Pshaw!
COL. But what about friend Royston?
BART. Hang friend Royston!
COL. With all my heart; but where the deuce is he?
BART. Waiting somewhere or other to hear the result of my interview
with Miss Templeton.
COL. In which you undertook to plead his cause--eh?
BART. Yes; and forgot all about it in my anxiety to plead my own!
COL. What's that? Do you mean to say you confided to her the secret
between you and Josephine?
BART. Yes; trusting in her generous nature and her sisterly affection,
I certainly _did!_
COL. And a pretty mess you've made of it! Well, I must find Royston
and let him know. As for you, as you've received orders to march, the
sooner you pack up and pack off the better! (_hurries out at C._).
(_Door at R. H. opens, and JOSEPHINE peeps in._)
JOSEPHINE. Harry! Are you alone?--quite alone? (_hurries forward_).
BART. Yes. What is it?
JOSEPHINE. Such a discovery! (_in a very mysterious tone_). She's got
one!
BART. She? Who?
JOSEPHINE. Julia!
BART. Got one? Got what?
JOSEPHINE. A young man! shut up in a box!
BART. In a box?
JOSEPHINE. Listen. After being well scolded by Aunt Martha, I followed
Julia to her room. There she was, with a little open box before her,
out of which she took something, looked at it, then pressed her lips
to it, and gave such a sigh!--you might have heard it here! perhaps
you did?
BART. Well?
JOSEPHINE. Then aunt called her, and she hurried out of the room,
leaving the box on the table; and then--then--somehow or other--here
it is! (_producing a small casket_). It looks as if there was a young
man inside--I mean a portrait--doesn't it?
BART. You've not opened it? (_eagerly_).
JOSEPHINE. No! That's for Aunt Martha to do!
BART. Surely you would not betray your sister's secret--perhaps her
happiness?
JOSEPHINE. Much she cared about _mine,_ didn't she? Aunt Martha must
and shall see it! (_going; BARTON stops her, the box falls on stage
and opens_). There! there! how clumsy you are!
BART. (_picks up the box, and then suddenly starting_). What do I see?
JOSEPHINE. That's what I want to know! It _is_ a portrait, isn't it?
BART. (_confused_). Yes!--no! a mere fancy sketch, nothing more!
(_taking miniature from box, and hastily concealing it in his
breast-pocket_). Be persuaded by me! replace the box where you found
it! (_giving box to her_).
JOSEPHINE. Mayn't I take just one little peep?--not that I've an atom
of curiosity!
BART. No, no!
JOSEPHINE. Well, if you insist on it.
BART. I do not _insist,_ I beg, _implore_ of you.
JOSEPHINE. Very well! (_hurries out at R. H._).
BART. (_watching her out, then taking miniature out and looking at
it_). My portrait! and what is written here? (_Reading._) "From
memory." What am I to think? Can I dare to hope that her indifference
was assumed--that she ever loved me--that she loves me still? Can such
happiness be mine? Dear, dear Julia. But zounds! what about Josephine?
Poor little girl! I can't marry them both! What--what is to be done?
(_walking up and down_). Will anybody tell me what's to be done?
_Enter ROYSTON hurriedly at C._
ROYS. (_coming down_). Oh, here you are! I couldn't wait any longer!
(_following BARTON up and down_).
BART. (_impatiently_). Don't worry! don't bother!
ROYS. (_astonished_). Bother! when I want to thank you for introducing
me to this charming, amiable family, and to tell you I don't despair
of becoming one of it!
BART. What?
ROYS. In a word, I'm in love! There's no mistake about it! Over head
and ears in love!
BART. What, sir? you persist in carrying on this absurd, ridiculous
joke?
ROYS. Joke?
BART. Yes, sir; I beg to tell you I'll not allow, I'll not permit you
to annoy poor dear Julia--I mean Miss Templeton--with your unwelcome
attentions, sir--your absurd importunities, sir?
ROYS. Miss Templeton? My dear fellow, she's nothing whatever to do
with it! It's the other! the little one!
BART. (_joyfully_). Josephine?
ROYS. Yes.
BART. My dear fellow! Come to my arms! (_throwing his arms about
ROYSTON, who struggles_). I congratulate you! I give you joy! Such a
sweet, charming, amiable creature, brimful of talent, overflowing with
tenderness. Come to my arms again! (_embracing ROYSTON again_).
ROYS. Then you'll speak for me--eh?
BART. Speak for yourself--here she comes.
_Enter JOSEPHINE hurriedly at R._
JOSEPHINE (_stopping on seeing ROYSTON_). Mr. Royston.
BART. (_aside to ROYSTON_). Now, then, speak out! don't be afraid! put
on a sentimental look.
ROYS. (_assuming a very lackadaisical look_). This sort of thing!
(_Aloud._) Miss Josephine--I--I-- (_Aside._) It's very awkward! if I
only knew how to begin.
BART. (_aside to him_). Go on!
ROYS. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for me to find
myself in your charming society without being
captivated--enchanted--by your fascinations, your--
JOSEPHINE (_surprised_). I thought it was my sister who--
ROYS. So it was! but she wouldn't have me! that's why I--
BART. (_hastily aside to him_). No! that won't do!
ROYS. (_shouting_). No! that won't do!
JOSEPHINE. (_still more astonished_). And you don't hesitate to
address me in this language before-- (_pointing to BARTON_).
ROYS. Before my friend--my bosom friend--that I went to school with at
Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who encourages me--who tells me
to "go on." You told me to "go on," didn't you?
JOSEPHINE (_with intention, and looking at BARTON_). But has it never
occurred to you that you might have a rival?
ROYS. So much the better! I should make it my immediate business to
sweep him off the face of the earth!
JOSEPHINE (_to BARTON, in a sarcastic tone_). And you, sir! you can
listen with perfect calmness, indifference! Have _you_ nothing to say?
ROYS. Yes! Have _you_ nothing?--
BART. (_aside to him_). Hold _your_ tongue! (_Aloud, and with affected
solemnity._) Ah! who can anticipate events? How little do we know what
a few hours may bring forth!
ROYS. Yes! how little do we know!--
BART. (_aside to him again_). Hold your tongue! (_Aloud._) In a word,
what if circumstances compel me to leave England for a considerable
time?
JOSEPHINE. A considerable time?
BART. Yes; for two years at least--possibly more!
JOSEPHINE. Two or three years?
BART. Could I venture to hope that you would submit to such a tax on
your goodness--your patience?
JOSEPHINE (_very quickly_). I should think not, indeed!
BART. (_aside_). She doesn't love me! Huzza! (_Aloud._) What course
is, then, open to me? One--only one: to sacrifice myself to the
happiness of my friend!
ROYS. (_grasping his hand_). Glorious creature!
JOSEPHINE. But what about your _own_ happiness? It isn't likely you
could give me up so quietly without some _other_ reason--some _other_
motive!
BART. I have _another_ motive, which for your sister's sake you will
respect! In a word, that portrait--
JOSEPHINE. In Julia's box? Yes. Well?
BART. Was _mine!_ See! (_taking out portrait and showing it_).
JOSEPHINE (_exclaiming_). Yours? It is!
ROYS. Yours? It is! (_bewildered_).
JOSEPHINE. Then--then _you_ are her young man, after all?
ROYS. Yes. You are her young man--
JOSEPHINE. Of course; now I understand. Now I see it all.
ROYS. So do I! No, I don't! At least, not _quite._
_Enter COLONEL hurriedly at C._
COL. (_singing as he comes in_). "See, the conquering hero comes."
Victory! victory! Everything's settled; and now, my dear young friends
(_shaking BARTON'S and JOSEPHINE'S hands_), you can get married as
soon as you like.
JOSEPHINE. }
}
BART. } (_together_). Married?
}
ROYS. }
COL. Yes! I had a devil of a fight for it, but I've carried the day!
Aunt Martha consents, Julia consents, everybody consents!
ROYS. I beg your pardon! _I_ don't! (_Shouting_). I forbid the banns!
_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON, followed by JULIA, at R. H._
JULIA (_aside, as she sees BARTON_). Still here!
JOSEPHINE. So, Aunt Martha, you've given your consent? And you, too,
Julia?
JULIA (_endeavoring to conceal her emotion_). Yes, Josephine,
willingly, gladly! Can I be indifferent to your happiness? (_smiling
sadly_).
JOSEPHINE (_aside_). How bravely she bears herself! (_Aloud._) And
yet, just now, you were so indignant, so angry with me?
JULIA. A momentary caprice, an unworthy jealousy!--but no more of
that. Kiss me, dear sister! (_kissing JOSEPHINE and moving away_).
JOSEPHINE (_aside_). A tear? But you won't suffer long, poor dear
martyr! (_Suddenly bursting into loud laughter._) Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside
to COLONEL._) Laugh!
COL. (_forcing laugh_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) Laugh!
ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) I don't know what I'm
laughing about.
MRS. T. What _is_ the matter?
JOSEPHINE (_laughing again_). Ha! ha! ha! You don't mean to say you've
all been taken in? Did you think we were in earnest all the time? Ha!
ha! ha! (_Aside to COLONEL._) Laugh!
COL. Ha! ha! ha!
ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha!
MRS. T. (_impatiently_). Josephine, I insist on your explaining this
extraordinary behavior instantly!
JOSEPHINE. Nothing so simple. (_To COLONEL and BARTON._) There's no
necessity for our carrying on this innocent little _jest_ any longer,
is there?
MRS. T. Jest?
JOSEPHINE. Yes; this harmless conspiracy to make everybody happy!
Julia dear, it was to test your love for me that I pretended to be so
very anxious to get married, which I wasn't the least little bit in
the world (_with a sly look at ROYSTON_). I mean I wasn't _then!_ My
fellow-conspirator, Mr. Barton, fearing that your rejection of him
might proceed from a preference for another, joined in the plot, but
very unwillingly, for it is you, Julia, you alone, that he has ever
loved; you alone that he loves still!
MRS. T. What is it I hear?
BART. The truth, madam! (_To JULIA._) May I hope, or must I endure a
second refusal!
JULIA (_tenderly_). I suffered too much from the first, Harry (_giving
her hand to BARTON_).
ROYS. (_aside_). That's _one_ couple; but there's room for another.
(_To MRS. TEMPLETON._) Madam, I have the honor to solicit the hand of
your younger niece, Miss Josephine!
MRS. T. With all my heart, Mr. Royston; that is, unless Josephine
objects.
JOSEPHINE (_quickly_). But she doesn't! (_giving her hand to
ROYSTON_).
BART. You see, Jonathan will be satisfied, after all.
ROYS. Yes. But poor Sophia (_sighing_).
BART. Hush! (_Aside to JULIA, and slipping the portrait into her
hand._) You'll put this portrait back in its place.
JOSEPHINE. She won't care to look at it, now that she's got the
_original._
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
PEPPERPOT'S LITTLE PETS!
_In One Act._
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
JACK PEPPERPOT, late H. M. 147th Foot.
DOCTOR JACOBUS JOGTROT.
MR. CHRISTOPHER CHIRPER.
STEPHEN BLUNT.
MRS. TARLETAN.
JESSIE (her niece).
MARTHA (a servant).
SCENE.--Mrs. Tarletan's Villa at Hampstead.
_Elegantly furnished room at MRS. TARLETAN'S villa. French windows at
back showing garden beyond; doors R. H. 3 E. and L.; fireplace at
L. H. 2 E.; table, chairs, sofa, etc. MARTHA discovered arranging
furniture, etc._ (_bell heard without_).
MARTHA. There's the gate bell beginning. Butcher for orders, I
suppose. (_Bell heard again._) I thought so; he's the most impatient
young man I ever came across! Asked me if I'd marry him only yesterday
morning when he called for orders, and was quite saucy because I
hadn't made up my mind when he brought the meat! I must go and ask
missus. (_Exit door R. JACK PEPPERPOT is seen to cross at back beyond
the French windows; looks cautiously in at C._).
JACK. No one to be seen; so much the better. (_Calling off._) Now
then, Blunt, come along! take care how you turn the corner; that'll
do. (_Enters at C., walking backward, closely followed by STEPHEN
BLUNT, in an undress military jacket and cap, carrying a box covered
with Chinese characters._) Left wheel! halt. (_Takes box carefully
from BLUNT and places it on small table--opens lid._) Nothing broken,
I hope. No; I don't even see a chip!
BLUNT. That's a wonder, too, your honor! cups and saucers is rather a
delicate sort of cargo to bring all the way from China.
JACK (_looking at watch_). Nine o'clock! I wonder if my dear,
excellent old aunt is still indulging in a horizontal position? We
reached town so late last night, I was afraid to disturb the dear old
soul. (_Looking round him._) Blunt, it strikes me we shall find our
quarters here very comfortable--eh? (_falling into chair and
stretching out his legs_).
BLUNT. I think so too, your honor (_imitating JACK, then jumping up
again and saluting_). Beg pardon, your honor! but when you say our
quarters--
JACK. I _mean_ our quarters! You wouldn't think of leaving me, you
brute, would you? Haven't we spent the last ten years of our lives
together--more or less respectably?--and if I _have_ got back to Old
England again, sound in wind and limb, who have I to thank? who but
you, you fine faithful old dog you (_laying his hand on BLUNT'S
shoulder_).
BLUNT (_deprecatingly_). Oh! oh!
JACK. If _you_ forget a certain sabre cut I received at the Alma, _I_
don't.
BLUNT. Oh! oh! just a little bit of a scratch.
JACK. Exactly; a little bit of a scratch that began at the top of my
head and finished at the tip of my nose! I was lying on my back faint
and sick, when a noble, lion-hearted fellow cut his way through the
Russian cavalry at the risk of his life, the idiot, threw me across
his horse, and saved me! That noble, lion-hearted idiot was Stephen
Blunt--bless him! But enough of the past! By-the-bye, Blunt, as long
as you are stationed here you must make it a point of finding
everybody and everything about you charming, delightful--in short,
first chop!
BLUNT (_touching his cap_). All right, your honor!
MRS. TARLETAN (_heard without_). If I am wanted, Martha, you'll find
me in the garden.
JACK. Here comes my aunt; beat a retreat--quick, anywhere.
[_BLUNT hurries out at L. H._
_Enter MRS. TARLETAN at R._
MRS. T. (_seeing JACK_). A stranger?
JACK (_smiling_). Not quite. (_Going to her._) Don't you know me,
_aunt?_
MRS. T. Eh? (_Suddenly._) Jack dear, dear boy! (_JACK clasps her in
his arms_). Kiss me again, Jack.
JACK. Again and again till you tell me to leave off (_kissing her
again_).
MRS. T. Let me look at you (_holding his head between her hands_). It
is ten long years since I have seen you, my darling boy: and has it
come back from China, a dear?
JACK. It has--all the way!
MRS. T. (_pulling his cheek affectionately_). And is it glad to get
home?
JACK. Is it? _ain't_ it? Ah! after knocking about the world for ten
years, you don't know how happy a fellow feels in getting back to his
aunt and having his cheeks pulled about. By-the-bye, aunt, what d'ye
think?--what with my prize-money, the sale of my commission, and one
thing and the other, I find I've managed to scrape together a matter
of £10,000.
MRS. T. Ten thousand? that's a large sum of money, my dear.
JACK. An awful lot, isn't it? the puzzle is, what I'm to do with it.
MRS. T. My advice is, invest in land; they say "Stick to the land, and
the land will stick to you."
JACK. I know _mud_ will--at least it did in the Crimea.
MRS. T. My dear Jack, do be serious! Now that you are worth £500 a
year--
JACK. Five hundred a year! I shall never spend the half of it.
MRS. T. Then get a _wife_ to help you.
JACK. A wife! me? what for?--why, my dear aunt, here are no end of
clever people complaining of the over-population of the country, and
you want me to-- (_Shaking his head._) No, no!
MRS. T. Well, well, we'll say no more about it; though it's a pity--a
great pity!
JACK. A pity! what do you mean?
MRS. T. Nothing! a fancy, a dream of mine--that's all.
(_JESSIE is heard singing a snatch of a song without--runs in
from R. H._)
JESSIE (_running to MRS. TARLETAN and kissing her_). Good-morning,
aunty dear. (_Suddenly, seeing JACK._) A stranger! Really, sir--I--I--
(_Courtesying._)
JACK (_bowing to JESSIE_). So do I, I'm sure, miss! very much indeed.
MRS. T. (_smiling_). "Sir" and "miss?" Why, Jack, have you forgotten
Jessie?
JACK. Eh? what? little Jessie!
JESSIE. Cousin Jack!
JACK (_taking both JESSIE'S hands_). Dear, dear, when I remember what
a tiny little mite you were ten years ago! about so high! (_measuring
about a foot_). Why, I used to teach you A B C, didn't I? And now I
suppose you're quite an accomplished young lady?
JESSIE. Tolerably so, I hope, cousin.
JACK. Then you deserve a prize; and here it is (_opening box on table,
takes out a fan and presents it to JESSIE_). The reward of merit.
JESSIE. Oh, what a beautiful Chinese fan! Oh, thank you, cousin!
JACK. And perhaps our good aunt will give us our tea tonight out of
her new porcelain service (_showing contents of box_).
MRS. T. A present for me, too! So you found time to think of me, dear
boy?
JACK. Think of you! Do you remember this? (_taking small case from his
breast-pocket and opening it_).
MRS. T. My photograph?
JACK. Which you gave me the night before I left England. You've never
left me! You've shared all my hardships, all my dangers, all my
triumphs! Didn't we enter Pekin together, sword in hand?
MRS. T. (_smiling_). _I_ enter Pekin!
JACK. Yes; rolled up in three of my flannel waistcoats to protect you.
JESSIE. Oh, Cousin Jack, I do so long to hear all your adventures.
JACK. Then you shall have them; not all at once; mustn't be greedy,
little girl. Now for it. (_They seat themselves._) Ahem! (_in an
impressive tone_). In order to make a first-rate brick--
MRS. T. _and_ JESSIE. A brick?
JACK. Don't interrupt me! I repeat, in order to make a first-rate
brick they put it on the kiln and bake it. Well, in order to make a
first-rate soldier they send him to India and bake _him_--that was my
case.
MRS. T. Well, from India you went to the Crimea?
JACK. Yes; there I took to rum, diluted with snowballs and gunpowder.
JESSIE. Poor Cousin! how you must have suffered!
JACK. Tolerably; but we ate well--when we'd got anything to eat--and
slept well when we hadn't to keep awake.
JESSIE. And you were never wounded?
JACK. Nothing to speak of. I got rather a warm one at the Alma, but
luckily it was on the head.
JESSIE. Cousin Jack, I really feel quite proud of you! that I do.
JACK. Then allow me to thank you in the name of the British Army;
allow the British Army to salute you! (_Kisses her. JESSIE joins MRS.
TARLETAN, who has gone a few steps up the stage._)
JACK (_looking after JESSIE, and aside_). A remarkably nice little
body. If ever I _should_ marry, I really--
JESSIE (_to MRS. TARLETAN, as they come forward_). No, indeed, aunt,
there's no necessity for anything of the kind.
MRS. T. I beg your pardon, my dear. Jack is one of the family.
JACK. Of course I am! What's the matter?
MRS. T. Well, the fact is, we are not unlikely soon to find a husband
for Jessie!
JACK. A husband! Who is he? what is he?
MRS. T. I only know that he is a _protégé_ of Doctor Jogtrot.
JACK. And who's Jogtrot?
MRS. T. Jessie's guardian; a retired physician--a very eminent man in
the scientific world.
JACK. Oh! ah! (_Aside._) Confound Jogtrot!
_MARTHA appears at C., followed by DOCTOR JOGTROT._
MARTHA (_announcing_). Doctor Jogtrot. (_Disappears._)
_Enter DOCTOR JOGTROT at C.; black costume--white cravat, etc._
JOGTROT (_to MRS. TARLETAN_). Pardon me, madam, if I am late.