_Lawton_: “It is Mr. Curwen, after all, Mrs. Roberts. Now let me see how a lady transmutes a frown of threatened vengeance into a smile of society welcome.” _Mrs. Roberts_: “Well, look!” To _Mr. Curwen_, who enters, followed by her husband: “Ah, Mr. Curwen! So glad to see you. You know all our friends here—Mrs. Miller, Dr. Lawton, and Mr. Bemis?” _Curwen_, smiling and bowing, and shaking hands right and left: “Very glad—very happy—pleased to know you.” _Mrs. Roberts_, behind her fan to Dr. Lawton: “Didn’t I do it beautifully?” _Lawton_, behind his hand: “Wonderfully! And so unconscious of the fact that he hasn’t his wife with him.” _Mrs. Roberts_, in great astonishment, to Mr. Curwen: “Where in the world is Mrs. Curwen?” _Curwen_: “Oh—oh—she’ll be here. I thought she was here. She started from home with two right-hand gloves, and I had to go back for a left, and I—I suppose—Good heavens!” pulling the glove out of his pocket. “I ought to have sent it to her in the ladies’ dressing-room.” He remains with the glove held up before him, in spectacular stupefaction. _Lawton_: “Only imagine what Mrs. Curwen would be saying of you if she were in the dressing-room.” _Roberts_: “Mr. Curwen felt so sure she was there that he wouldn’t wait to take the elevator, and walked up.” Another ring is heard. “Shall I go and meet your aunt _now_, my dear?” _Mrs. Roberts_: “No, indeed! She may come in now with all the formality she chooses, and I will receive her excuses in state.” She waves her fan softly to and fro, concealing a murmur of trepidation under an indignant air, till the _portière_ opens, and _Mr. Willis Campbell_ enters. Then _Mrs. Roberts_ breaks in nervous agitation “Why, Willis! Where’s Aunt Mary?” _Mrs. Miller_: “And Mr. Miller?” _Curwen_: “And Mrs. Curwen?” _Lawton_: “And my daughter?” _Bemis_: “And my son?” _Mr. Campbell_, looking tranquilly round on the faces of his interrogators: “Is it a conundrum?” _Mrs. Roberts_, mingling a real distress with an effort of mock-heroic solemnity: “It is a tragedy! O Willis dear! it’s what you see—what you hear; a niece without an aunt, a wife without a husband, a father without a son, and another father without a daughter.” _Roberts_: “And a dinner getting cold, and a cook getting hot.” _Lawton_: “And you are expected to account for the whole situation.” _Campbell_: “Oh, I understand! I don’t know what your little game is, Agnes, but I can wait and see. _I’m_ not hungry.” _Mrs. Roberts_: “Willis, do you think I would try and play a trick on you, if I could?” _Campbell_: “I think you can’t. Come, now, Agnes! It’s a failure. Own up, and bring the rest of the company out of the next room. I suppose almost anything is allowable at this festive season, but this is pretty feeble.” _Mrs. Roberts_: “Indeed, indeed, they are not there.” _Campbell_: “Where are they, then?” _All_: “That’s what we don’t know.”