happy. Amy has a passionate desire to be of some use in this world she knows so well, and she already sees her sphere, Steve, it is to look after me. I am not to be her chaperone, it is she who is to be mine. I have submitted, you see.' COLONEL, fidgeting, 'She seems to have quite given me up for you.' ALICE, blandly, 'Oh yes, Robert, quite.' STEVE, gloomily, 'You will excuse my thinking only of myself. What an ass I've been.' ALICE. 'Is it a blow, Steve?' STEVE. 'It's a come down. Ass, ass, ass! But I say, Alice, I'm awfully glad it's I who have been the ass and not you. I really am, Colonel. You see the tragedy of my life is I'm such an extraordinarily ordinary sort of fellow that, though every man I know says some lady has loved him, there never in all my unromantic life was a woman who cared a Christmas card for me. It often makes me lonely; and so when I thought such a glorious woman as you, Alice--I lost touch of earth altogether; but now I've fallen back on it with a whack. But I'm glad--yes, I'm glad. You two kindest people Steve Rollo has ever known.--Oh, I say good-night. I suppose you can't overlook it, Alice.' ALICE. 'Oh, yes, you goose, I can. We are both fond of you--Mr. Rollo.' COLONEL. 'Come in, my boy, and make love to _me_ as often as you feel lonely.' STEVE. 'I may still come to see you? I say, I'm awfully taken with your Amy.' COLONEL. 'None of that, Steve.' ALICE. '_We_ can drop in on you on the sly, Steve, to admire your orbs; but you mustn't come here--until Amy thinks it is safe for me.' When he has gone she adds, 'Until _I_ think it is safe for Amy.' COLONEL. 'When will that be?' ALICE. 'Not for some time.' COLONEL. 'He isn't a bad sort, Steve.' ALICE. 'Oh, no--she might even do worse some day. But she is to be my little girl for a long time first.' COLONEL. 'This will give him a sort of glamour to her, you know.'