ALICE, looking down, 'Yes, Steve.'

AMY, gently, 'Mother, what was that you called him?'

ALICE. 'Dear Amy, I forgot. Yes, Mr. Rollo.'

STEVE. 'Then, Alice--'

AMY. 'This lady's name, if I am not greatly mistaken, is Mrs. Grey. Is
it not so, mother?'

ALICE. 'Yes, Amy.'

STEVE. 'As you will; but it is most important that I say certain
things to her at once.'

ALICE. 'Oh, Mr. Rollo. What do you think, dear?'

AMY, reflecting, 'If it be clearly understood that this is good-bye, I
consent. Please be as brief as possible.'

Somehow they think that she is moving to the door, but she crosses
only to the other side of the room and sits down with a book. One of
them likes this very much.

STEVE, who is not the one, 'But I want to see her alone.'

AMY, the dearest of little gaolers, 'That, I am afraid, I cannot
permit. It is not that I have not perfect confidence in you, mother,
but you must see I am acting wisely.'