The story of the play, as first produced in Chicago, may be told as
follows:

Act first--Scene, New York. A young girl and a young man are in love,
and engaged to be married. The striking originality of this idea will
startle any one who has never heard of such a thing before. Lilian
Westbrook and Harold Routledge have a lover's quarrel. Never mind what
the cause of it. To quote a passage from the play itself: "A woman never
quarrels with a man she doesn't love"--that is one of the minor laws of
dramatic construction--"and she is never tired of quarreling with a man
she does love." I dare not announce this as another law of female human
nature; it is merely the opinion of one of my characters--a married man.
Of course, there are women who do not quarrel with any one; and there
are angels; but, as a rule, the women we feel at liberty to fall in love
with do quarrel now and then; and they almost invariably quarrel with
their husbands or lovers first, their other acquaintances must often be
content with their smiles. But, when Lilian announces to Harold
Routledge that their engagement is broken forever, he thinks she means
to imply that she doesn't intend to marry him.

Women are often misunderstood by our more grossly practical sex; we are
too apt to judge of what they mean by what they say. The relations, if
there are any, between a woman's tongue and her thoughts form the least
understood section, perhaps, of dramatic law. You will get some idea of
the intricacies of this subject, if one of your literary professors will
draw you a diagram of what a woman doesn't mean when she uses the
English language. Harold Routledge, almost broken-hearted, bids Lilian
farewell, and leaves her presence. Lilian herself, proud and angry,
allows him to go; waits petulantly a moment for him to return; then,