_El_. Neither, dear papa. I am too busy finishing a paper I am writing on the "Chiton; or, Clothing for the masses on the principles of the ideal of the ancient Greeks," for the next meeting of the Women's Dress Reform Association. _Lord G_. Well, take care you make them put enough on. Remember the climate, if you ignore other considerations. _Lady G_. And pray do not so far overstep the bounds of maidenly modesty as to consult your Mr Plumper on the subject. [_Exit_ Lord _and_ Lady Gules. _El_. [_sighing_]. My Mr Plumper! Ah, Adolphus, there is not a fibre in our bodies or souls--and why should not souls have fibres?--that does not vibrate in harmony! We are like AEolian harps that make the same music to the same airs of the affections, while electrically our brains respond sympathetically to the same wave-current of idea. Emotionally, intellectually, we are one. Why should I allow an absurd custom of conventional civilisation, degrading to the sex, to prevent my telling him so? What more inherent right can be vested by nature in a woman than that of telling a man that she loves him, and that, therefore, he belongs to her? Hark! his step. My Adolphus! _Enter_ Adolphus. _Ad_. I have ventured to kuk-kuk-kuk-call, Lady Elaine, with the pap-pap- pattern I promised of female attire suited to all classes; for why should we recognise any did-did-distinction between the folds which drape the form of the aristocrat and the pop-pop-pauper? It is all in kuk-kuk-curves and circles; there is not a straight line about it worn thus. See how graciously it flows! [_Puts his head through a hole in the middle_.] But allow me; your form will do far more justice to it than mine. [_Takes it off and puts it on_ Lady Elaine.] Ah, how divinely precious! [_Gazes with rapture_. Lady Elaine _sits down in it_.] _El_. Dear Adolphus, why should this strained conventional formality exist any longer between us? Can we not read each other's thoughts? Can we not feel each other's hearts beating in sweet accord? Are we not formed and fashioned for each other? Let this exquisite garment, which we have both worn, be the symbol of that internal robe which costumes our united souls, woven from the texture of our affections. _Ad_. [_falling on his knees, kisses its hem_]. Sweet symbol of sanctified intuitions! Tit-tit-tit-transparent--though it may seem tot- tot-tolerably thick; for does it not reveal to me the workings of the soul of my beb-beb-beloved? Ah, Elaine, how trifling do earthly treasures seem, compared with those of the affections! You will be mine, for ever mine, dud-dud-darling, will you not--even though I may not have the riches I am supposed to possess? _El_. Oh, Adolphus! how can you ask me such a question? What is the wealth of the pocket as compared with the wealth of the soul! _Ad_. True! oh, quite intensely true!--for how sweetly sings the poet Oscar on this theme!--