_Miss Diova Rose._ Can't endure him myself. All his characters are so fearfully common; still--(_tolerantly_) I daresay it might amuse--a--that class of persons. _Mrs. Flitt._ I must say I agree with Lady HONOR. We should try and aim as high as possible--and well, I think _not_ DICKENS, dear Mr. LOVEGROOVE. _TENNYSON_ might do perhaps; he's written some charmin' pieces. _Mr. Lovegr._ Well, fact is, I don't go in for poetry much myself. But I'll read anythin' of his you think I'm equal to. _Mrs. Flitt._ Why--a--really, it's so long since I--and I'm afraid I haven't one of his poems in the house. I suppose they are down at Barn-end. But I could send to CUTT AND HAWTHORN'S. I daresay _they_ would have a copy somewhere. _Miss Sibson-Gabler._ Surely TENNYSON is rather--a--retrograde? Why not read them something to set them _thinking_? It would be an interesting experiment to try the effect of that marvellous Last Scene in the _Doll's House_. I'd love to read it. It would be like a breath of fresh air to them! _Mrs. P.-W._ Oh! I've seen that at the Langham Hall. You remember, CECILIA, my taking you there? And CORNEY GRAIN played _Noah_. To be sure--we were _quite_ amused by it all. _Miss S.-G._ (_coldly_). This is _not_ amusing--it's a play of IBSEN'S. _Mrs. Flitt._ Is that the man who wrote the piece at the Criterion--what is it, _The Toy Shop_? WYNDHAM acted in it. _Lady Damp._ No, no; IBSEN is the person there's been all this fuss about in the papers--he goes in for unconventionality and all that. I may be wrong, but I think it is _such_ a mistake to have anything unconventional in an Entertainment for the People. _Mrs. Flitt._ But if he's being _talked_ about, dear Lady DAMPIER, people might like to know something about him. But perhaps we'd better leave IBSEN open, then. Now, what shall we have next? _Miss Skipworth._ I tell you what would fetch them--a skirt-dance. I'll dance for you--like a shot. It would be no end of fun doin' it on a regular platform, and I've been studyin' FLOSSIE FRILLINGTON, at the Inanity, till I've caught her style exactly. _Mr. Kempton._ Oh, I say, you can give her a stone and a beatin' any day, give you my word you can. She doesn't put anythin' like the go into it you do. [_Miss S. accepts this tribute with complacency._ _Mrs. Flitt._ A skirt-dance will be the very thing. It's sure to please the people we shall bring over for it--and of course they'll be in the front rows. Yes, I must put _that_ down. We ought to have a song next. Mrs. TUBEROSE, you promised to come and sing for us--you will, won't you? _Mrs. Tuberose._ Delighted! I rather thought of doing a dear little song STEPHAN OTIS has just brought out. It's called "_Forbidden Fruit_," and he wrote it expressly for me. It goes like this. [_She sits down at the piano, and sings, with infinite expression and tenderness._