Mrs. P., hand in hand. As Captain TOUCHIT enters, dressed for dinner, he
bows and passes on.]

TOUCHIT.--So, we are to wear our white cravats, and our varnished boots,
and dine in ceremony. What is the use of a man being a widower, if he
can't dine in his shooting-jacket? Poor Mill! He has the slavery now
without the wife. [He speaks sarcastically to the picture.] Well, well!
Mrs. Milliken! YOU, at any rate, are gone; and with the utmost respect
for you, I like your picture even better than the original. Miss Prior!

Enter Miss PRIOR.

MISS PRIOR.--I beg pardon. I thought you were gone to dinner. I heard
the second bell some time since. [She is drawing back.]

TOUCHIT.--Stop! I say, Julia! [She returns, he looks at her, takes her
hand.] Why do you dress yourself in this odd poky way? You used to be
a very smartly dressed girl. Why do you hide your hair, and wear such a
dowdy, high gown, Julia?

JULIA.--You mustn't call me Julia, Captain Touchit.

TOUCHIT.--Why? when I lived in your mother's lodging, I called you
Julia. When you brought up the tea, you didn't mind being called Julia.
When we used to go to the play with the tickets the Editor gave us, who
lived on the second floor--

JULIA.--The wretch!--don't speak of him!

TOUCHIT.--Ah! I am afraid he was a sad deceiver, that Editor. He was