MRS. TEMPENNY.

No--we are too hard up, but I believe Rembrandt loves me, and I love
him.

MRS. SYLVESTER (_heavily_).

Poor child.

(_Enter_ REMBRANDT TEMPENNY _door in flat. He wears long
hair, and a brown velveteen jacket, and is smoking a short pipe_.)

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Eugenia? And Mrs. Sylvester? Why, bless my soul, how nice, what a
surprise! Don't move--don't. (_Stands peering at them with his hands
over his eyes._) What a charming effect of light on your profile, Mrs.
Sylvester--how rich--how transcendental! Glorious! (_Comes down._)
Well, well, well, and so you ladies have come to pay me a visit. Can I
offer you anything?

MRS. TEMPENNY.

I called on Mrs. Tempenny to inquire whether you would dine with us
to-night, and she said she could not answer without consulting you.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

You have no engagement, Rembrandt?