Kate. That must require quite a stretch of the imagination sometimes. Eug. Hope that isn't personal, Kittie. Never mind, you will be proud of me some time, only a fellow must have his fling, you know. Now I must go and get my dose from the governor. By by, Harold, see you again. (Exit, C.) Kate. Poor Eugene. Doug. I beg pardon. (Aside.) What the deuce ails her now? (Aloud.) Poor Eugene? Why, he is the liveliest fellaw I know. The boys nevaw think of having a champagne supper without Eugene, you know. Kate. I am sorry if my brother is sought only for the purpose of gracing champagne suppers and disgracing himself. Doug. Aw--weally, now, weally, aren't you a little too severe. Alice (C.). Of course she is. A young man must sow his wild oats. Kate (L.). But I believe a young lady is not allowed that privilege. What is wrong for one must be for the other? Alice. You shock me, Kate. Doug. Aw--weally now, 'pon my honor, that is such a strange wemark, Miss Grovenor; a lady is of course above such things. Kate. Then in that respect, at least, she must be superior to a man. I am glad to hear you acknowledge even so little. Doug. Aw--now--aw--you quite confuse me. (Aside.) I must go wight away; never could stand these strong-minded ladies. (Aloud.) Aw--I--I never argue with a lady, you know. But I am afwaid I shall have to tear myself away, as I have a very particular engagement. Alice. I am so sorry! But we shall see you again soon? Doug. Aw--vewy soon--aw--I should only be too happy to wemain forever in your chawming pwesence. (Kisses her hand, bows to Kate, and exit, C.) Alice. Well, you have driven him away. It will be very convenient to have you around _after_ he and I are married, but previously the experiment is too dangerous, and I shall have to ask you to be kind enough to keep your strange ideas exclusively for our family circle. (Exit, L. 2 E.) Kate. Strange ideas! Is it so strange to long to be independent? Is it strange to shrink from being a burden on an already over-burdened father, or dependent upon the whims of some unloved husband? Is it strange to wish to exercise the talents and energy God has given you instead of allowing them to rust out in darkness? Does the fact of my being a woman make me content to drift along aimlessly, in a stream that leads nowhere? No! a thousand times, no! (Enter Jennie, C.) Jen. Dr. Endicott, miss. Kate. Please ask him in. Jen. Yes'm. (Aside.) _He_ is a man what _is_ a man. (Exit, C.) Kate. I wonder does he, too, think me strange? (Enter Dr. Endicott, C.) Dr. E. (coming down L.). At last I am with you once more, where I should have been long ago had not duty called me elsewhere. Kate. I am delighted to welcome you. Father was saying yesterday he wished to see you. Dr. E. Oh, yes, there is a little business matter between us. And what have you been doing since I was last here? Kate. Oh, nothing. Dr. E. Nothing? Really nothing?