And when is the weddin' to be, ma'am? _Mrs. Mossop._ It's not yet decided, Mr. Ablett. In point of fact, before the Gower family positively say Yes to the union, Miss Trelawny is to make her home in Cavendish Square for a short term--"short term" is the Gower family's own expression--in order to habituate herself to the West End. They're sending their carriage for her at two o'clock this afternoon, Mr. Ablett--their carriage and pair of bay horses. _Ablett._ Well, I dessay a West End life has sooperior advantages over the Profession in some respecks, Mrs. Mossop. _Mrs. Mossop._ When accompanied by wealth, Mr. Ablett. Here's Miss Trelawny but nineteen, and in a month-or-two's time she'll be ordering about her own powdered footman, and playing on her grand piano. How many actresses do that, I should like to know! [_Tom Wrench's voice is heard._] _Tom._ [_Outside the door._] Rebecca! Rebecca, my loved one! _Mrs. Mossop._ Oh, go along with you, Mr. Wrench! [_Tom enters, with a pair of scissors in his hand. He is a shabbily-dressed ungraceful man of about thirty, with a clean-shaven face, curly hair, and eyes full of good-humor._] _Tom._ My own, especial Rebecca! _Mrs. Mossop._ Don't be a fool, Mr. Wrench! Now, I've no time to waste. I know you want something-- _Tom._ Everything, adorable. But most desperately do I stand in need of a little skillful trimming at your fair hands. _Mrs. Mossop._ [_Taking the scissors from him and clipping the frayed edges of his shirt-cuffs and collar._] First it's patching a coat, and then it's binding an Inverness! Sometimes I wish that top room of mine was empty. _Tom._ And sometimes I wish my heart was empty, cruel Rebecca. _Mrs. Mossop._ [_Giving him a thump._] Now, I really will tell Mossop of you, when he comes home! I've often threatened it--- _Tom._ [_To Ablett._] Whom do I see! No--it can't be--but yes--I believe I have the privilege of addressing Mr. Ablett, the eminent greengrocer, of Rosoman Street? _Ablett._ [_Sulkily._] Well, Mr. Wrench, and wot of it? _Tom._ You possess a cart, good Ablett, which may be hired by persons of character and responsibility. "By the hour or job"--so runs the legend. I will charter it, one of these Sundays, for a drive to Epping. _Ablett._ I dunno so much about that, Mr. Wrench. _Tom._ Look to the springs, good Ablett, for this comely lady will be my companion. _Mrs. Mossop._ Dooce take your impudence! Give me your other hand. Haven't you been to rehearsal this morning with the rest of 'em? _Tom._ I have, and have left my companions still toiling. My share in the interpretation of Sheridan Knowles's immortal work did not necessitate my remaining after the first act. _Mrs. Mossop._ Another poor part, I suppose, Mr. Wrench? _Tom._ Another, and to-morrow yet another, and on Saturday two others--all equally, damnably rotten. _Mrs. Mossop._