TARVER. (_Chuckling to himself and strolling right to foot of table_) Jimmie Raleigh said a very true thing about her. He said, "Whenever I talk to Miss Faraday, I'm warranted to stay cold for days--like a Thermos bottle." (_Sits on stool_.) PHYLLIS. Oh, Bobby! AUNT IDA. Oh, Mr. Tarver! (_Smiling with suppressed fury_) I _should_ like to have you in Chicago for a week. TARVER. (_Taking her seriously_) Oh, thanks awfully. I dare say some day, after my election, I shall have to look up America. Just at present, though, I have too much on my mind. AUNT IDA. Shouldn't overburden the weak, Mr. Tarver. PHYLLIS. (_Showing resentment_) Oh, Aunt Ida! (EVELYN _laughs_.) TARVER. (_Rises, gives_ AUNT IDA _a resentful look, turns up_ R. _by fender and addresses_ EVELYN) But the great thing now is to get old Grice to _propose_ to Miss Celia. EVELYN. (_Very patronizingly_) Why, yes, Bobby. Then out of gratitude she might go out and canvass for you. TARVER. (_Doubtfully_) Ye-es, that would be very nice, of course. (_Rises enthusiastically_.) But fascinating girls are what is needed at a time like this--like you, Lady Trenchard, and Phyllis and Mrs. Rockingham. (_He bows to each as he addresses them. Going up to_ MADGE _at desk_ R.) I say, when is your husband coming back from India? MADGE. Not till Christmas. (_Rises_.) TARVER. Then _you_ can spend all _your_ time canvassing for me, can't you? MADGE. (_Patronizingly_) Oh, of course, Bobby. TARVER. (_Crossing_ L. _to_ C.) Thanks awfully. And you two girls can do the same. But your sister--well---- (MADGE _comes to head of magazine table_.) AUNT IDA. (_Turning on him quickly_) _Well, what, Mr. Tarver?_ TARVER. (_Very diffidently_) Well, I'm afraid _she_ wouldn't be of much use--you see, she's rather difficult--isn't she? AUNT IDA. Difficult! TARVER. (_Seeing he has made a break, tries to recover himself_) Well, not quite the sort of person to make friends for one, don't you know? AUNT IDA. (_Growing more and more enraged, rises and faces him_) _Mr. Tarver!_ TARVER. (_Now thoroughly frightened_) Well, shall we say a,--a--a trifle cold? AUNT IDA. (_Backing him across stage to foot of table_ R.) Yes, and who has made her a trifle cold--(_Imitating_ TARVER)-and difficult? _You_ and your _Henry Steeles_ and _Jimmy Raleighs_. ALL THE GIRLS TOGETHER. Aunt Ida! TARVER. Oh, I say! AUNT IDA. Yes, where is she now, I would like to know? Freezing for an hour on an open wharf in the pouring rain, three miles away, because nobody took the trouble to think of her. MADGE. (_Coming center. Protestingly_) Oh, Aunt Ida, I heard the motor leave not two minutes ago. AUNT IDA. Yes, just about two hours too late. (MADGE _goes above table and joins girls, who with_ TARVER _are evidently alarmed under_ AUNT IDA'S _attack and express it in a murmur_. TARVER _sits_.) Oh, if only she doesn't get tired of waiting before the motor can get there.