MRS. CLARENCE. What did you say was the matter with him? Influenza? AUNT. Did I say that? Well, I suppose influenza is as good a name for it as any other. MRS. CLARENCE. It sounds as if Master Horace had been naughty. AUNT. Julia, dear, I am much worried about him—I am indeed. HORACE. Good old Aunt Martha! She’s not such a bad sort. MRS. CLARENCE. What is the matter with him? AUNT. My dear, he has taken a turn for the worse. MRS. CLARENCE. Have you sent for a doctor? AUNT. No, I haven’t. It is more of a moral complaint than physical. He thinks of nothing and nobody but himself. He quite neglects Minnie. MRS. CLARENCE. What a shame! AUNT. And I can’t sit still and see Minnie sacrificed. MRS. CLARENCE. I should think not, indeed. How pretty she looks to-night. Horace is engaged to her, isn’t he? AUNT. I’m glad to say it is broken off. He has nobody to blame but himself. She plucked up courage this evening and gave him his congé. MRS. CLARENCE. So that’s it. Influenza has a lot to answer for. Excuse me a moment, dear. (_Exit MRS. CLARENCE._) HORACE. Must I listen to all this twaddle? MESSENGER. Your intimates don’t appear to think very highly of you. HORACE. I don’t care two straws for their opinion. MESSENGER. Don’t you value the praise of your fellow men? HORACE. My fellow men—oh, yes. But not such creatures as these. Men of the world, men of business, hard-headed men of science. Take their opinions. I venture to say they will speak of me with respect and very possibly with admiration. (_DICEY has brought MINNIE back and left her with AUNT MARTHA, he retiring. He shows elation as he bows._) AUNT. Are you tired, dear? MINNIE. Quite the reverse. AUNT. Then why are you not dancing? MINNIE. I have something to tell you. Something particular. Oh, Auntie, I hope you won’t be vexed! AUNT. Vexed? Surely not. MINNIE. I’ll whisper it. (_Whispers._) AUNT. (_Smiling_) _Really?_ I’m very glad! He’s charming. HORACE. Me! Me! MINNIE. You know I never really cared for Horace like this. HORACE. What? What did she say? AUNT. He certainly never cared for you. HORACE. Oh, you wicked old woman! AUNT. There was only one person he was ever in love with, and that was himself. MINNIE. I know it now. I was giving everything, he nothing. AUNT. Men are like that, my dear. They are all alike. MINNIE. Not all, Auntie. There’s Arthur. AUNT. Arthur is the exception, at least I hope so. MINNIE. Oh, he is very different from Horace. HORACE. I should hope he was, and you’ll find it out, my young lady. AUNT. You have had a very narrow escape. Arthur is a good man. I feel that. As for Horace, he is a pig! MINNIE. Oh, Auntie, don’t say that! AUNT. Pig! I do say it! I will say it! It describes him exactly. Horace is a pig! (_Lights and interior dark._) MESSENGER. As you observed, Aunt Martha is a sensible woman.