_Mrs. Pomfret._ I've known stranger things than _that_ happen. Why, only the other day, a gentleman came into this very room, as it might be yourself, and it struck me he was looking very hard at me, and by and bye he says, "You don't recollect _me_, ma'am, but I know _you_ very well," says he. So I said to him, "You certainly have the advantage of me at present, sir." "Well, ma'am," he says, "many years ago I had the honour and privilege of being steward's room boy in a house where you was still-room maid; and I consider I owe the position I have since attained entirely to the good advice you used to give me, as I've never forgot it, ma'am," says he. Then it flashed across me who it was--"Mr. Pocklington!" says I. Which it _were_. And him own man to the Duke of Dumbleshire! Which was what made it so very nice and 'andsome of him to remember me all that time. _Undershell_ (_perfunctorily_). It must have been most gratifying, ma'am. (_To himself._) I hope this old lady hasn't any more anecdotes of this highly interesting nature. I mustn't neglect Miss Phillipson--especially as I haven't very long to stay here. [_He consults his watch stealthily._ _Miss Phillipson_ (_observing the action_). I'm sorry you find it so slow here; it's not very polite of you to show it quite so openly though, I must say. [_She pouts._ _Undershell_ (_to himself_). I can't let this poor girl think me a brute! But I must be careful not to go too far. (_To her, in an undertone which he tries to render unemotional._) Don't misunderstand me like that. If I looked at my watch, it was merely to count the minutes that are left. In one short half-hour I must go--I must pass out of your life, and you must forget--oh, it will be easy for _you_--but for _me_, ah! you cannot think that I shall carry away a heart entirely unscathed! Believe me, I shall always look back gratefully, regretfully, on---- _Phillipson_ (_bending her head with a gratified little giggle_). I declare you're beginning all that _again_. I never _did_ see such a cure as you are. _Undershell_ (_to himself, displeased_). I wish she could bring herself to take me a little more seriously. I can _not_ consider it a compliment to be called a "cure"--whatever that is. _Steptoe_ (_considering it time to interfere_). Come, Mr. Undershell, all this whispering reelly is not fair on the company! You mustn't hide your bushel under a napkin like this; don't reserve _all_ your sparklers for Miss Phillipson there. _Undershell_ (_stiffly_). I--ah--was not making any remark that could be described as a sparkler, sir. I _don't_ sparkle. _Phillipson_ (_demurely_). He was being rather sentimental just then, Mr. Steptoe, as it happens. Not that he can't sparkle, when he likes. I'm sure if you'd heard how he went on in the fly! _Steptoe_ (_with malice_). Not having been privileged to be present, perhaps our friend here could recollect a few of his happiest efforts and repeat them.