CAPT. Heaven preserve us! then is Dumpington a hospital? WAITER. A hospital? I don't know about that, sir. The Montpelier of the North, they calls it. CAPT. Who does? WAITER. Well, the railway companies. CAPT. How d' you get down to the sea? WAITER. You go along the pier, sir. CAPT. Oh, you walk along the pier. WAITER. Not many people walk, sir--it's a mile long. Trains start every fifteen minutes. CAPT. That's if anybody wants to go? WAITER. Precisely so, sir; but as no one ever does want, they don't start at all, sir. CAPT. What the dickens do the people do then? WAITER. Well, they're mostly wheeled about in Bath chairs. CAPT. Oh, preserve us! Where is Mrs. Plunger? WAITER. Went out on the balcony as we came in, sir--with a gentleman. CAPT. A gentleman! Did she seem to know him? WAITER. Very much, sir. CAPT. You can go. I'll join them. WAITER. Beg your pardon, sir, but I don't think they want you to. CAPT. Go to the--kitchen, fellow! _Exit WAITER, L_. Upon my word, my wife has lost no time in finding a companion. I don't think that I can pay her a more fitting compliment than that of following her example. It's a lucky thing for Dumpington I saw Miss Darlington just now, or I'd have gone by the first train that starts for anywhere. I wonder if she knows I'm married? Let us hope the London papers don't reach here. (_sees paper_) What's this? The "Dumpington Gazette." It's not in that. (_sits down and reads_) "Salubrity of Dumpington. The slanderous assertion that this fashionable watering place, the annual rendezvous of such a galaxy of rank and beauty, is infected with an epidemic, is the baseless calumny of venomous malignity. The only fifteen cases in the neighbourhood are yielding rapidly to the invigorating influence of our sea air, and the unflagging energy and skill of Dr. Mumps, the able and experienced practitioner, who advertises weekly in the 'Dumpington Gazette.'" _Meanwhile ETHEL has re-entered, R., and sat beside him._ ETHEL. Do you find the paper very interesting? CAPT. (_jumping up_) Miss Darlington! I beg ten thousand pardons for not seeing you before. This is indeed a happy meeting. I was reading in the paper that a galaxy of rank and beauty was at Dumpington, and I was wondering where the beauty was, unconscious that it was so near me. ETHEL. Very near indeed, for Miss Carruthers is at this hotel. CAPT. I beg your pardon, who is? ETHEL. Miss Carruthers. CAPT. What, is Miss Carruthers Miss Carruthers still? ETHEL. Oh, dear me, yes. CAPT. (_aside_) Hurrah! She doesn't know I'm married. "Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's----" (_a tambourine strikes up outside_) Oh, dear! ETHEL. There's that eternal woman with the tambourine; do send her away, please! CAPT. (_runs to window_) There, that'll do; we've got no coppers. (_coming back_) You were saying----