and we played a thing called "The Royal Boots."' ALICE, clapping her hands, '_I_ played in that, too, last year.' COSMO. 'You?' ALICE. 'Yes. Why shouldn't I?' COSMO. 'But we did it for fun.' ALICE. 'So did we.' COSMO, his views on the universe crumbling, 'You still like fun?' ALICE. 'Take care, Cosmo.' COSMO. 'But you're our mother.' ALICE. 'Mustn't mothers have fun? COSMO, heavily, 'Must they? I see. You had played the dowager.' ALICE. 'No, I didn't. I played the girl in the Wellington boots.' COSMO, blinking, 'Mother, _I_ played the girl in the Wellington boots.' ALICE, happily, 'My son--this ought to bring us closer together.' COSMO, who has not yet learned to leave well alone, 'But the reason I did it was that we were all boys. Were there no young ladies where you did it, mother?' ALICE. 'Cosmo.' She is not a tamed mother yet, and in sudden wrath she flips his face with her hand. He accepts it as a smack. The Colonel foolishly chooses this moment to make his return. He is in high good-humour, and does not observe that two of his nearest relatives are glaring at each other. COLONEL, purring offensively, 'It's all right now, Alice; she took to me at once.' ALICE, tartly, 'Oh, did she!' COLONEL. 'Gurgled at me--pulled my moustache.' ALICE. 'I hope you got on with our dear son as well.' COLONEL. 'Isn't he a fine fellow.' ALICE. '_I_ have just been smacking his face.' She sits down and weeps, while her son stands haughtily at attention.