_Sir William._
What!
_Avonia._
Excuse my dress; it's all in the way of my business. Just one word about
Rose.
_Rose._
Please, 'Vonia----!
_Avonia._
[_To Sir William, who is glaring at her in horror._] Now, there's
nothing to stare at, Sir Gower. If you must look anywhere in particular,
look at that poor thing. A nice predicament you've brought her to!
_Sir William._
Sir----! [_Correcting himself._]. Madam!
_Avonia._.
You've brought her to beggary, amongst you. You've broken her heart;
and, what's worse, you've made her genteel. She can't act, since she
left your mansion; she can only mope about the stage with her eyes fixed
like a person in a dream--dreaming of him, I suppose, and of what it is
to be a lady. And first she's put upon half-salary; and then, to-day,
she gets the sack--the entire sack, Sir Gower! So there's nothing left
for her but to starve, or to make artificial flowers. Miss Trelawny
I'm speaking of! [_Going to Rose, and embracing her._] Our Rose! our
Trelawny! [_To Rose, breaking down._] Excuse me for interfering, ducky.
[_Retiring, in tears._] Good-day, Sir Gower. [_She goes out._]
_Sir William._
[_After a pause, to Rose._] Is this--the case?
_Rose._
[_Standing, and speaking in a low voice._] Yes. As you have noticed,
fortune has turned against me, rather.
_Sir William._.
[_Penitently._] I--I'm sorry, ma'am. I--I believe ye've kept your word
to us concerning Arthur. I-I----
_Rose._
[_Not heeding him, looking before her, dreamily.'_] My mother knew how
fickle fortune could be to us gypsies. One of the greatest actors that
ever lived warned her of that---
_Sir William._