_Lady B._ Nay, you are mistaken--’twas but the wind in the old wainscot. (_Aside._) He is quite capable of destroying that innocent child; but old and attached servant as he is, there are liberties I still know how to forbid. (_To_ M.) Your story--quick! _Monks._ First, I delivered the cigars to Sir Vevey Long, whom I found under his verandah. He seemed surprised and gratified by the gift, selected a weed, and was proceeding to light it, whilst he showed a desire to converse familiarly with me. ’Astily excusing myself, I drove away, when---- _Lady B._ When _what_? Do not torture a wretched old woman! _Monks._ When I heard a loud report behind me, and, in the portion of a brace, two waistcoat-buttons, and half a slipper, which hurtled past my ears, I recognised all that was mortal of the late Sir Vevey. You mixed them cigars uncommon strong, m’Lady. _Elfie_ (_aside_). Can it be? But no, no. I will _not_ believe it. I am sure that dear Granny meant no harm! _Lady B._ (_with a grim pride she cannot wholly repress_). I have devoted some study to the subject of explosives. ’Tis another triumph to the Anti-tobacconists. And what of Lady Violet Powdray--did she apply the salve? _Monks._ Judging from the ’eartrending ’owls which proceeded from Carmine Cottage, the salve was producing the desired result. Her Ladyship, ’owever, terminated her sufferings somewhat prematoor by jumping out of a top winder just as I was taking my departure---- _Lady B._ She should have died hereafter--but no matter ... and the Upas-tree?---- _Monks._----was presented to the Pergaments, who unpacked it, and loaded its branches with toys and tapers; after which Mr. Pergament, Mrs. P., and all the little Pergaments joined ’ands, and danced round it in light’arted glee. (_In a sombre tone._) They little knoo as how it was their dance of death! _Lady B._ That knowledge will come! And the beer, Monkshood--you saw it broached? _Monks._ Upon the village green; the mortality is still spreading, it being found impossible to undo the knots in which the victims have tied themselves. The sweetmeats were likewise distributed, and the floor of the hinfant-school now resembles one vast fly-paper. _Lady B._ (_with a touch of remorse_). The children too! Was not my little Elfie once an infant? Ah me, ah me! _Elfie_ (_aside_). Once--but that was long, long ago. And, oh, _how_ disappointed I am in poor dear Grandmama! _Lady B._ Monkshood, you should not have done these things--you should have saved me from myself. You _must_ have known how greatly all this would increase my unpopularity in the neighbourhood. _Monks._ (_sulkily_). And this is my reward for obeying orders! Take care, my Lady. It suits you now to throw me aside like a--(_casting about for an original simile_)--like a old glove, because this innocent grandchild of yours has touched your flinty ’art. But where will _you_ be when she learns----?