LILY. [_Languidly._] Either; _I_ don't care. MAUD. Oh, gracious, what on earth _is_ the matter with you this morning! I've never known you as queer as this after any hop you've been to in _my_ time. [_To MRS. UPJOHN, who has lowered her paper._] Nothing wrong, is there? LILY. [_Turning over and burying her head in the cushions._] Maud. MAUD. [_Moving to the settee and bending over LILY._] Here I am, lovey. LILY. [_In a muffled voice._] Go into the next room and shut the door, and don't let me see your stupid, fat face till I come to you. MAUD. [_Laughing heartily._] Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! That's better. [_Going to the bedroom door._] That's how I like to hear her talk. We needn't send for Dr. Gilson yet awhile. Ha, ha, ha! [_She disappears into the bedroom and closes the door._ MRS. UPJOHN. [_Looking at LILY._] Lil. LILY. Yes, mother? MRS. UPJOHN. 'Ave another cup o' tea, won't you? LILY. No. MRS. UPJOHN. 'Nother bit o' toast, then? LILY. No. MRS. UPJOHN. Smoke a cigarette. LILY. No. MRS. UPJOHN. You always _do_ 'ave a w'iff after your breakfast. Come! LILY. No. MRS. UPJOHN. [_Rising and walking away._] Oh, dear; oh, dear! Deuce take Carlton Smythe an' 'is supper party-- those are _my_ sentiments; _an'_ Lal Roper, busybody that 'e is! Things were goin' on with us as smooth an' peaceful as could be, before this upset. LILY. [_Raising herself, angrily._] _You_ were in it, mother; you're as much to blame as anybody. MRS. UPJOHN. [_Halting._] 'Ow _in_ it? LILY. In Uncle Lal's artful plan to prevent Nicko from being invited. You've confessed you were. MRS. UPJOHN. Lal twisted me round 'is little finger. I was clay in the porter's 'and, as your dad was fond of sayin'. LILY. [_Changing her position._] If only Nicko had been there, I shouldn't have given young Farncombe all those dances, nor wandered about with him in the intervals, nor allowed him to see me home. It all simply wouldn't, _couldn't_ have happened. [_Hitting a cushion._] Oh! [_Sitting up and embracing her knees._] Mother----! MRS. UPJOHN. [_Behind the settee._] Wot? LILY. [_Knitting her brows._] I-- I'm so surprised at myself. MRS. UPJOHN. Surprised? LILY. So-- so disappointed with myself. MRS. UPJOHN. Why, you 'aven't done anything that-- that's not quite respectable, Lil. On the cont'ry---- LILY. No, I haven't done anything that's actually not nice, but-- fancy!---- MRS. UPJOHN. [_Close to LILY._] Fancy----? LILY. [_Opening her eyes widely._] Fancy my letting myself go with young Farncombe as I did! _He-- he'd_ been admiring me from a distance for weeks and weeks, but I'd scarcely noticed him till last night! [_Leaning her head against MRS. UPJOHN, softly._] I-- I always thought I was such a cold girl, mother, in-- in that way. MRS. UPJOHN. I s'pose it was wot's called love at first sight, Lil. LILY.