_Mrs. T. (taking it from the salver, without looking at it)._ Quite right, PH[OE]BE--we shall be ready for supper when I ring. (_When_ PH[OE]BE _has gone_.) I can't see anything without my---- ALTHEA, just go and see if I have left my spectacle-case in my room, my dear. It's astonishing how they're always getting mislaid, and I'm so helpless without them. (ALTHEA _goes_.) Mr. CURPHEW, perhaps you will read this aloud for me; I want my husband to hear. _Curphew (suppressing a slight start)._ May I ask if they distribute papers of this sort at your Church--and--and why you think it is likely to interest me in particular? (_To himself._) Wonder if this can be a trap! _Mrs. T. (taking back the document, and holding it close to her nose)._ Gracious goodness! _this_ isn't the---- CHARLES, perhaps you will explain how you come to have a paper in your pocket covered with pictures of females in shamelessly short skirts? _Charles (to himself)._ In for a pie-jaw this time! What an owl that girl is! (_Aloud._) It's only a programme, Aunt; thing they give you at a music-hall, you know. _Mrs. T. (in an awful voice)._ Only a programme! Pa, tell this unhappy boy your opinion of his conduct! _Mr. T. (rising magisterially)._ CHARLES, am I to understand that a nephew of mine allows himself to be seen in a disreputable resort such as---- _Charles._ Oh come, Uncle, you can't know much about the Eldorado, if---- _Mr. T. (with a bound)._ _The Eldorado._ How _dare_ you bring that name up here, Sir? What do you mean by it? _Charles (surprised)._ Why, you must have heard of it--it's one of the leading music-halls. _Mr. T. (gasping)._ A music-hall? the Eldorado! (_To himself._) If it should turn out to be--but no, my nerves are upset, it _can't_ be--and yet--what _am_ I to say to him? [_He falls back into his chair with a groan._ _Mrs. T._ CHARLES, if you can stand there and feel no shame when you see how disturbed and disgusted even Mr. CURPHEW looks, and the agitated state to which you have reduced your poor Uncle, you must indeed be hardened! [CURPHEW _has considerately walked to the window_; Mr. TOOVEY _endeavours to collect his faculties_; CHARLES _looks from one to the other in bewilderment_. END OF SCENE I. * * * * * [Illustration: SOMETHING WRONG SOMEWHERE. _September 1. Partridge Shooting._ _Old Twentystun (reviewing his symptoms)._ "DEAR ME! MOS' 'STRAORDINARY, THIS SHORTNESS O' BREATH. LE' ME SEE--'GOOD PLAIN FOOD AND BEST QUALITY O' DRINK,' DOCTOR SAID. THA 'S ALL RIGHT--NEVER STINTED MYSELF FOR EITHER. 'NEVER OVERDO YOURSELF,' SAYS HE. HAVEN'T. NEVER WALKED A STEP IF I COULD HELP IT SINCE LAST SEASON. 'GO TO BED EARLY.' SO I HAVE, AND NEVER HURRIED UP EITHER. MOS' 'STRAORDINARY! MOS' 'STRAORDINARY!" [_Goes home to consult Doctor again._] * * * * * YORKSHIRE VICTOR.