GLADSTONE. Piccadilly, or Oxford Street?

MRS. G. I thought Gamage's.

GLADSTONE. Holborn? That sounds adventurous. Yes, my love, I will shop
with you on Thursday--if all goes well at Windsor to-morrow--with all the
contentment in the world. (_They kiss_.) Now go to bed; and presently
I will come and read Herrick to you.

(_She gets up and goes toward the door, when her attention is suddenly
arrested by the carpet._)

MRS. G. William! Do you see how this carpet is wearing out? We shall have
to get a new one.

GLADSTONE. It won't be necessary now. Those at Hawarden, if I remember
rightly, are sufficiently new to last out our time.

MRS. G. I wish I could think so, my dear. They would if you didn't give
them such hard wear, walking about on them. The way you wear things out
has been my domestic tragedy all along!

GLADSTONE (_standing with folded hands before her_). My love, I have
just remembered; I have a confession to make.

MRS. G. What, another? Oh, William!

GLADSTONE. I cannot find either of my comforters. I'm afraid I have lost
them. I had both this morning, and now both are gone.