Yardsley. You haven't anything to do with the subject in hand, my
dear Barlow, not a thing.
Dorothy. Jennie--what--what have you to say?
Jennie. Me? Oh, mum, I hardly knows what to say! This is suddenter
than the other; but, Miss Dorothy, I'd believe him, I would, because--
I--I think he's tellin' the truth, after all, for the reason that--
oh dear--for--
Dorothy. Don't be frightened, Jennie. For what reason?
Jennie. Well, mum, for the reason that when I said "yes," mum, he
didn't act like all the other gentlemen I've said yes to, and--and k--
kuk--kiss me.
Yardsley. That's it! that's it! Do you suppose that if I'd been
after Jennie's yes, and got it, I'd have let a door-bell and a sofa
stand between me and--the sealing of the proposal?
Barlow (aside). Oh, what nonsense this all is! I've got to get
ahead of this fellow in some way. (Aloud.) Well, where do I come
in? I came here, Miss Andrews, to--tell you--
Yardsley (interposing). You come in where you came in before--just a
little late--after the proposal, as it were.
Dorothy (her face clearing and wreathing with smiles). What a comedy
of errors it has all been! I--I believe you, Mr. Yardsley.
Yardsley. Thank Heaven! And--ah--you aren't going to say anything
more, D--Dorothy?