Then why don't they abolish Bond Street? It's the crucible of London--set your foot in it and everything about you that's metal dissolves. LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART. Aunt has been _too_ extravagant this morning. LADY TWOMBLEY. Extravagant! I! Oh, no--only I dearly wish there was no such plague as money. If the little words "thank you" were the one universal current coin, what anxieties, what cravings, what follies some poor women would be spared! Why can't we buy choice stuffs at three-and-a-half thank-yous a yard? LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART. Oh, Aunt Kate! IMOGEN. Mamma! LADY TWOMBLEY. It's nothing to laugh at. Ah, girls, if "thank you" paid for everything, being out of breath would be our only bankruptcy! Oh, my poor brain! IMOGEN. [To SIR JULIAN.] Mamma has a bad headache to-day, papa. LADY TWOMBLEY. A headache! never! Girls, what is it we bought and brought home with us? I forget. IMOGEN. We didn't buy him, mamma--we met him. You mean Cousin Valentine. LADY TWOMBLEY. [Looking round.] Of course--Valentine. Where is he? [Calling.] Valentine! [VALENTINE enters very plainly dressed.] SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. Mr. White! [Bowing stiffly.] How do you do? BROOKE TWOMBLEY. Why, Val! What? LADY TWOMBLEY. We met the poor boy outside the tourists' ticket office in Piccadilly. He's off again to-morrow. BROOKE TWOMBLEY. Off! Where to? VALENTINE WHITE. Egypt. LADY TWOMBLEY. We shan't see him again for another ten years, I suppose. IMOGEN. Oh, mamma! LADY TWOMBLEY. The odd creature has heard of a congenial tribe who reside in excavations cut in a rock. It'll end in my having a nephew who's a mummy. IMOGEN. [Tearfully.] Oh, don't! SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. Katherine, this child is not well. IMOGEN. Yes, I am, papa--but I don't like--the idea--of parting--with anybody or anything--even a k-k-kitten. LADY TWOMBLEY. [Soothingly.] Imogen, my dear! IMOGEN. Be quiet, mamma! [The DOWAGER, LADY EUPHEMIA, EGIDIA, and ANGELE with the baby go out. IMOGEN runs after them. SIR JULIAN resumes the study of his speech. LADY TWOMBLEY opens some letters which are lying on the table.] BROOKE TWOMBLEY. [To VALENTINE.] I never knew such a queer chap! Come upstairs and tell us all about it--what! [BROOKE, VALENTINE, and DRUMDURRIS go out.] LADY TWOMBLEY. Oh! SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. Katherine? LADY TWOMBLEY. It's all right, pa--it's nothing. [To herself.] Gaylustre! [Reading a letter.] "I will accompany you and dear Sir Julian to the interesting ceremony of this morning. Pray keep me a seat in your carriage." [Crushing the letter in her hand.] The demon! The relentless demon! SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. "I can conceive no position more agreeable to a Minister of the Crown----" LADY TWOMBLEY. Pa, dear, Mrs. Gaylustre will go with us to the opening of the new street. SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. H'm! Katherine, are you sure that Mrs. Gaylustre is _quite_---- LADY TWOMBLEY. Oh, quite. SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY. If I were you I should really think twice----