[_Referring to the letter._] Ah, "Rovers' Club"! [_Addressing the telegram._] "John Mallory, Rover's Club." Let me see--that's in Green Street, Piccadilly. [_Writing._] "Green Street, Piccadilly." Or am I thinking of the "Stragglers'"? I've a Club list upstairs--I'll go and look at it. [_Humming an air, he shuts up the telegraph form in the blotting-book, and rises, still with his back to Peggy._] I feel so happy! [_He goes out._] PEGGY. [_Advances to the blotting-book, carrying some luggage labels._] Miss Dyott has sent me to address her luggage labels. I am compelled to open that blotting-book. [_She sits on the chair lately vacated by Queckett, and opens the blotting-book mischievously with her forefinger and thumb. Seeing the telegraph form._] Ah! [_Reading it greedily, with exclamations._] Oh! "Dear old boy!" Oh! "Diggings of humble bachelor!" Oh! "Bring two or three good fellows!" Oh-oh! [_Sticking the telegraph form prominently against the stationery cabinet, facing her, and addressing a luggage label._] "Miss Dyott, passenger to Hereford." QUECKETT. [_Re-entering gaily._] It is in Green Street, Piccadilly. [_He sees Peggy, and stands perplexed, twisting his little moustache._] PEGGY. [_Writing solemnly._] "Miss Dyott, passenger to Hereford." QUECKETT. [_Coughing anxiously._] H'm! I fancy I left an eighty-ton gun--I mean, I think I've mislaid a--er-----[_Without looking up, Peggy re-adjusts the telegraph form against the cabinet._] Oh! H'm! That's it. [_He makes one or two fidgety attempts to take it, when Peggy rises with it in her hand. She reads it silently, forming the words with her lips._] Oh, you vexing girl! What do you think of doing about it? [_She commences to fold the form very neatly._] You know I sha'n't send it. I never meant to send it. I say, I shall not send it. [_Nervously holding out his hand._] Shall I? [_Peggy doubles up the form into another fold without speaking._] You are a vexing girl. MISS DYOTT. [_Calling outside._] Miss Hesslerigge! [_Peggy quietly slips the telegraph form into her pocket._] QUECKETT. Oh! You won't tell my wife? You will not _dare_ to tell my wife! [_Mildly._] Will you? MISS DYOTT. [_Calling again._] Miss Hesslerigge! QUECKETT. [_In agony._] Oh! [_Between his teeth._] Do you--do you know any bad language? PEGGY. I went to the Lord Mayor's Show once; I heard a little. QUECKETT. Then I regret to say I use it to you, Miss Hesslerigge--I use it to you! [_Miss Dyott enters, carrying Queckett's hat, gloves and overcoat._] MISS DYOTT. You can address the labels in another room, Miss Hesslerigge, please. QUECKETT. [_To himself._] Will she tell? PEGGY. [_To herself._] He is in our power! [Peggy goes out.] MISS DYOTT. [_Putting the hat on Queckett's head._] You look sickly, my Vere. QUECKETT. I shall be better after my stroll, Caroline. [_A knock and ring are heard._] MISS DYOTT.