MRS. C. Now, Marmy, make yourself useful! (_motioning him to take off her cloak_) WOOD. Eh? oh, I know! (_taking hold of MRS. CARVER'S cloak behind and giving it a violent tug_) MRS. C. How clumsy you are to be sure! (_MAID assists in taking off her cloak_) MAID. Here's the ticket, madam. (_presenting ticket_) WOOD. Wait a minute, young woman! (_putting both the bouquets under his arm_) MRS. C. What are you doing? (_taking the bouquets and arranging them_) WOOD. (_to MAID_) Here's my hat--here's my comforter--here's my Inverness cape--(_giving the articles to her_)--and, now, give me a ticket for the lot? MAID. Here it is, sir, No. 81. (_giving ticket_) WOOD. 81? it's 18! MAID. No, sir, you've got it upside down! (_MAID goes out with things, R._) WOOD. I see! One's obliged to be particular, because at the very last dinner party I was at, I got a ticket No. 9 in exchange for a bran-new brown silk umbrella; and when I asked for my bran-new brown silk umbrella in exchange for ticket No. 9, they told me that ticket No. 9 was ticket No. 6, and handed me one American overshoe and a walking stick. MRS. W. Do, mamma, arrange the flowers in my coronet. MRS. C. They're all right, my dear; that's more than I can say for my dress! only see how Marmy has rumpled it! (_smoothing dress_) WOOD. (_C._) Me? come, I like that! considering I had to ride outside, if I rumpled any body, it must have been the coachman! MRS. C. Now, my dear, I think we may venture into the ball room! MRS. W. Without our fans and gloves, mamma? MRS. C. Marmy has got them. WOOD. (_L._) Eh? yes. (_feeling in his pockets_) No, I haven't. MRS. C. Nonsense, you put them in your pocket, you must have them somewhere about you! WOOD. If I have, they must have slipped down into my boots! Would you like me to take off my boots? (_sulkily_) MRS. C. I dare say you've dropped them. WOOD. No, I'm positive I didn't drop them. (_aside_) I flung 'em away! MRS. C. How careless of you! what's to be done? WOOD. Well, it strikes me there's only one thing to be done--go home again. (_hurrying to door, R., and calling out_) Ticket No. 18! No. 81! two opera cloaks, one hat, one comforter, one Inverness cape. _Enter MRS. LARKINGS, at C., in fashionable evening dress.--LADIES and GENTLEMEN are seen promenading within--Music._ MRS. L. (_seeing the ladies_) Ah! you've arrived at last, I quite began to despair of you. WOOD. (_still at door R., he has got the two opera cloaks, the hat, and the comforter, and is holding up and examining an Inverness cape_) Holloa! this isn't my Inverness cape! I'll take my oath this is not my Inverness cape! MRS. L. Why! What is Mr. Woodcock about? MRS. W. (_plaintively_) Getting our things together to go home! He's either lost or mislaid our fans and gloves! MRS. L. What of that! I can supply you with no end of fans, and dozens of pairs of gloves! MRS. C. } } Oh, thank you--thank you! MRS. W. }