_Elegantly furnished room at MRS. TARLETAN'S villa. French windows at back showing garden beyond; doors R. H. 3 E. and L.; fireplace at L. H. 2 E.; table, chairs, sofa, etc. MARTHA discovered arranging furniture, etc._ (_bell heard without_). MARTHA. There's the gate bell beginning. Butcher for orders, I suppose. (_Bell heard again._) I thought so; he's the most impatient young man I ever came across! Asked me if I'd marry him only yesterday morning when he called for orders, and was quite saucy because I hadn't made up my mind when he brought the meat! I must go and ask missus. (_Exit door R. JACK PEPPERPOT is seen to cross at back beyond the French windows; looks cautiously in at C._). JACK. No one to be seen; so much the better. (_Calling off._) Now then, Blunt, come along! take care how you turn the corner; that'll do. (_Enters at C., walking backward, closely followed by STEPHEN BLUNT, in an undress military jacket and cap, carrying a box covered with Chinese characters._) Left wheel! halt. (_Takes box carefully from BLUNT and places it on small table--opens lid._) Nothing broken, I hope. No; I don't even see a chip! BLUNT. That's a wonder, too, your honor! cups and saucers is rather a delicate sort of cargo to bring all the way from China. JACK (_looking at watch_). Nine o'clock! I wonder if my dear, excellent old aunt is still indulging in a horizontal position? We reached town so late last night, I was afraid to disturb the dear old soul. (_Looking round him._) Blunt, it strikes me we shall find our quarters here very comfortable--eh? (_falling into chair and stretching out his legs_). BLUNT. I think so too, your honor (_imitating JACK, then jumping up again and saluting_). Beg pardon, your honor! but when you say our quarters-- JACK. I _mean_ our quarters! You wouldn't think of leaving me, you brute, would you? Haven't we spent the last ten years of our lives together--more or less respectably?--and if I _have_ got back to Old England again, sound in wind and limb, who have I to thank? who but you, you fine faithful old dog you (_laying his hand on BLUNT'S shoulder_). BLUNT (_deprecatingly_). Oh! oh! JACK. If _you_ forget a certain sabre cut I received at the Alma, _I_ don't. BLUNT. Oh! oh! just a little bit of a scratch. JACK. Exactly; a little bit of a scratch that began at the top of my head and finished at the tip of my nose! I was lying on my back faint and sick, when a noble, lion-hearted fellow cut his way through the Russian cavalry at the risk of his life, the idiot, threw me across his horse, and saved me! That noble, lion-hearted idiot was Stephen Blunt--bless him! But enough of the past! By-the-bye, Blunt, as long as you are stationed here you must make it a point of finding everybody and everything about you charming, delightful--in short, first chop! BLUNT (_touching his cap_). All right, your honor! MRS. TARLETAN (_heard without_). If I am wanted, Martha, you'll find me in the garden.