“Yes, I’m here, I suppose you’re delighted, You’d heard I was not coming down? Why I’ve been here a week—rather early— I know, but it’s horrid in town. At Boston? Most certainly, thank you, This music is perfectly sweet; Of course I like dancing in summer, It’s warm but I don’t mind the heat. The clumsy thing! Oh! how he hurt me! I really can’t dance any more— Let’s walk—see they’re forming a Lanciers; These square dances are such a bore, My cloak, oh! I really don’t need it, Well carry it—so, in the folds, I hate it, but Ma made me bring it, She’s frightened to death about colds. This is rather cooler than dancing, They’re lovely piazzas up here; Those lanterns look sweet in the bushes, It’s lucky the night is so clear. I am rather tired of this corner— Very well, if you like, I don’t care— But you’ll have to sit on the railing— You see there is only one chair. So long since you’ve seen me!—Oh! ages— Let’s see, why it’s ten days ago. Seems years—Oh! of course—don’t look spooney, It isn’t becoming you know. How bright the stars seem to-night, don’t they? What was it you said about eyes? How sweet!—Why you must be a poet— One never can tell till he tries. Why can’t you be sensible, Harry? I don’t like men’s arms on my chair, Be still, if you don’t stop that nonsense I’ll get up and leave you, so there! Oh! please don’t—I don’t want to hear it— A boy like you, talking of love. My answer—Well, Sir, you shall have it— Just wait till I get off my glove. See that? Well you needn’t look tragic, Its only a solitaire ring— Of course, I am proud of it, very— It’s rather an elegant thing. Engaged!—yes—why, didn’t you know it? I thought the news must have reached here, Why, the wedding will be in October, The happy man? Charley LeClear. Why don’t blame me—I tried to stop you, But you would go on like a goose. I’m sorry it happened—forget it— Don’t think of it—don’t—What’s the use? There’s somebody coming—don’t look so— Get up on the railing again— Can’t you seem as if nothing had happened? I never saw such geese as men. Ah! Charley, you’ve found me! a galop? The ‘Bahn frei’? Yes, take my bouquet, And my fan if you will, now I’m ready— You’ll excuse me, of course, Mr. Gray.”