Miss Mary. Excuse me, Col. Starbottle (with winning politeness), but I fear I must rob you of those flowers. I recognize them now as the offering of one of my pupils. I fear I must revoke my gift (taking flowers from astonished colonel's hand), all except a single one for your buttonhole. Have you any choice, or shall I (archly) choose for you? Then it shall be this. (Begins to place flowers in buttonhole, COL. STARBOTTLE exhibiting extravagant gratitude in dumb show. Business prolonged through MISS MARY's speech.) If I am not wrong, colonel, the gentleman to whom you so kindly pointed out the road this morning was not a stranger to you. Ah! I am right. There, one moment,--a sprig of green, a single leaf, would set off the pink nicely. Here he is known only as "Sandy": you know the absurd habits of this camp. Of course he has another name. There! (releasing the colonel) it is much prettier now. Col. Starbottle. Ged, madam! The rarest exotic--the Victoria Regina--is not as--er--graceful--er--tribute! Miss Mary. And yet you refuse to satisfy my curiosity? Col. Starbottle (with great embarrassment, which at last resolves itself into increased dignity of manner). What you ask is--er--er--impossible! You are right: the--er--gentleman you allude to is known to me under--er--er--another name. But honor--Miss Morris, honor!--seals the lips of Col. Starbottle. (Aside.) If she should know he was a menial! No. The position of the man you have challenged, Star, must be equal to your own. (Aloud.) Anything, Miss Morris, but--er--that! Miss Mary (smiling). Be it so. Adios, Col. Starbottle. Col. Starbottle (gallantly). Au revoir, Miss Morris. [Exit, impressively, L.