Nonsense, child; take it.

[SOPHY, _somewhat out of countenance, lays the robe over the back of the
chair._

MRS. EDEN.

[_Looking up_.] Well, you are a lucky girl, Sophy!

SOPHY.

Yes, I know it's very beautiful; [_returning to the_ DUCHESS] but I--I
think I'd rather not--

DUCHESS.

Tsch, tsch! help me. [_The_ DUCHESS _is standing before the
cheval-glass, which conceals her from the audience. With_ SOPHY'S _aid,
she slips out of her dress and puts herself into the tea-gown, while she
talks to_ MRS. EDEN.] Miss Eden is not well to-night, I am afraid. She
didn't come into the drawing-room.

[MRS. EDEN _rises and goes to the settee, upon which she partly kneels
while she chatters to the_ DUCHESS.

MRS. EDEN.

She complained of headache and bolted upstairs. Muriel is such an odd
girl at times.