SCENE II.—_A chamber. There must be a bed in the room, C. This

may be a lounge, but it must have curtains around it. These are necessary, and can be arranged on a light, portable frame. MR. C. enters the room, sets down the lamp on table, R., and looks around, in astonishment._

MR. C. It seems Maria has entirely refurnished this chamber. I can hardly recognize the room I have occupied so many times. But I am too sleepy to take much account of surroundings. If the bed is only comfortable, I shall not take much notice of anything else. (_Takes off coat, vest, and slippers, which he puts near head of bed, and extinguishes the light. He then parts the curtains and throws himself upon the bed, drawing the curtains to after him._)

(_A pause. Then the door opens, L., and an ancient maiden, in party attire, enters. She sets lamp down on the table. Sits down, herself, and proceeds to divest her head of its adornings. She takes off two sets of curls, two or three braids, and numberless hairpins. Also takes from her mouth a set of false teeth. While these preparations are going on, she soliloquizes_:)

AUNT RACHEL. What senseless people one meets at a party, to be sure!

MR. C. (_peeping from between curtains, aside_). Who the deuce is this?

A. R. (_continuing_). There was that Fitznoodle, the puppy, trying to make himself agreeable to our little Agnes. To be sure, she’s old enough to have a beau, but I hope to goodness she won’t marry _him_. I wouldn’t if he was worth his weight in gold.

MR. C. (_again peeping out,—in a low tone_). What a fate it would be for a man to marry such a woman as that! Though, for that matter, there won’t be much left of her, if she keeps on. She’s got her head most taken to pieces, already.

(_AUNT R. puts on a very large night-cap, so that only a small portion of her face is visible. She suddenly discovers the other lamp. MR. C. frequently peeps out._)

A. R. (_in dismay_). Where did that other lamp come from? I know it wasn’t here when I dressed for the party. (_Looks around. MR. C.’S head disappears, and the curtains are closed. She discovers a coat and vest on the chair near head of bed. Her eyes are fixed on them in horror. She wrings her hands._) Oh, there’s a man in the room, I know there is! I shall faint. (_She suddenly considers that, under the circumstances, this would be improper._) If I only dared to go and look! (_Stands a moment, with hands tightly clasped together, grows courageous, and slowly walks toward the bed, peeps through the curtain, and, darting back, screams._) Oh! oh! oh!

MR. C. (_parting the curtains a little_). Don’t be so foolish, madam. I assure you it is all a mistake.

A. R. That’s what they always say. (_Runs to door, L., looking back now and then, to see if she is pursued; screams_:) Emmeline! James! Help! Murder! Thieves!

(_Exit AUNT RACHEL._)

(_MR. C. parts the curtain, and looks forth._)

MR. C. Well, I must say, that’s rather curious. The mystery thickens. Pray who could that female be? I’m sure it’s no one that I ever saw before. Perhaps she’s left a handkerchief with her name written on it. I guess I’ll reconnoitre a little, as she has left me a light. (_Goes to table, lifts, successively, the braids and masses of curls._) Here is part of her make-up. But there’s no name on it. In fact, there is nothing to give any clue to the mystery. But there’s one thing I can do. I’ll fasten the door so that I shall not be interrupted again. (_Goes to door and locks it._) Now I believe I will retire once more, and see if I cannot get a little rest. And for fear I may be routed again, I will leave the light burning. (_He goes to bed._)

(_Curtain falls._)