Jenkins. – "Good heavens! Why, there's that brute Tomkins! The skunk! I wonder you can ask such a man to your house! I hope you haven't put him near me at dinner, because I shall cut him dead."

Hostess. – "Oh, it's all right. He told me all about you before you came in."

Jenkins. – "Did he? What did he say about me, the ruffian?"

Hostess. – "Oh, nothing much – merely what you've just been saying about him."

He. – "Oh, I've long given up dancing for my own sake. I only dance now with those unlucky girls that don't get partners. Who's that young lady behind you?"

She. – "My daughter."

He. – "Pray, introduce me!"

"Why, you're looking better already, Sir Ronald!"

"Yes, thanks to your delightful hospitality, I've had everything my doctor ordered me: 'Fresh air, good food, agreeable society, and cheerful conversation that involves no strain on the intellect!'"

Guardsman (gazing at the motley throng). – "Any great literary or scientific celebrities here to-night, Lady Circe?"

Lady Circe (who has taken to hunting Lions). – "No, Sir Charles. The worst of celebrities in these democratic days is that they won't come unless you ask their wives and families, too! So I ask the wives and families, and the wives and families come in their thousands, if you please, and the celebrities stay at home and go to bed."

Jones (a rising young British architect). – "Yes; it's a charming old castle you've bought, Mrs. Prynne, and I heartily congratulate you on being its possessor!"

Fair California Widow (just settled in the old country). – "Thanks. And now you must find me a legend for it, Mr. Jones!"

Jones. – "I'm afraid I can't manage that; but I could add a story, if that will do as well!"

Tommy. – "Why don't they have little shut-up houses? Why do they have open bars?"

Dorothy (who knows everything). – "Oh! that's for them to see the people, of course!"

Just as Stodge is about to explain the recondite subtleties of his picture to a select circle of deeply interested and delightfully sympathetic women, his wife comes in with the baby, confound it!

"Oh, look, grandpapa! Poor things … they're burying the baby!"

"Isn't Emily Firkinson a darling, Reginald?"

"A – ahem – no doubt. I can't say much for her singing, you know!"

"Ah! but she's so good and true – a perfect angel! I've known her all my life. I want you to promise me something, Reginald."

"Certainly, my love!"

"If I should die young, and you should ever marry again, promise, oh! promise me that it shall be Emily Firkinson!"

Hostess (to host, after dinner). – "George, dear, how about asking Signor Robsonio and Signora Smithorelli to sing? They'll be mortally offended if we do, and they'll be mortally offended if we don't!"

Mrs. Bloker. – "Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you at breakfast, but I wanted to make sure of you. Mr. and Mrs. Dedleigh Boreham are stopping with me for a few days, and I want you to come and dine to-morrow, or, if you are engaged, Wednesday; or Thursday will do, or Friday or Saturday; or any day next week!"

(Mrs. Brown feebly tries to invent that they have some thoughts of sailing to Honolulu this afternoon, and that they have just lost a relative, but breaks down ignominiously.)

"But doesn't hearing those brilliant speeches sometimes make you change your mind?"

"My mind? Oh, often! But my vote, NEVER!!"

The Old Marquis of Carabas. – "What, madam! There's your lovely but penniless daughter positively dying to marry me; and here I am, willing to settle £20,000 a year on her, and give her one of the oldest titles in England, and you refuse your consent!!!! By George, madam, in my young days it wasn't the mothers who objected to men of my sort. It was the daughters themselves!!"

Hostess. – "So sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Green."

Visitor. – "Oh, don't mention it. The anticipation, you know, is always so much brighter than the reality."

Mrs. Brown. – "Oh, Mrs. Smith, do have that sweet baby of yours brought down to show my husband. He's never seen it."

Mr. Brown. – "Oh, pray, don't trouble on my account."

Genial Hostess. – "What, going already, Professor?.. And must you take your wife away with you?"

The Professor (with grave politeness). – "Indeed, madam, I am sorry to say I MUST!"

"Pardon me! But you have passed over that picture in the corner. An old Dutch master, I think."

"Oh, that! 'The Burgermaster' it's called By Rembrank, I b'lieve. It ain't nothing much. Only a work of hart. Not one of the family, you know!"

The Maiden. – "Good-morning, Mr. Jones! How do you like my hyacinths?"

The Curate. – "Well, they prevent me from seeing you! I should prefer Lower cinths!"

The Miss Browns (of "a good" Bayswater family) playing "Buffalo Gals," with variations, on two American banjoes and an American parlor-grand.

Mrs. Gushington (aside to her husband). – "What a long, tiresome piece of music that was! Who's it by, I wonder?"

Mr. Gushington. – "Beethoven, my love."

Mrs. Gushington (to hostess). – "My dear Mrs. Brown, what heavenly music! How in every bar one feels the stamp of the greatest genius the world has ever known!"

"Oh, papa, we've all quite made up our minds never to marry, now we've got this beautiful house and garden!" (Papa has taken this beautiful house and garden solely with the view of tempting eligible young men to come and play lawn-tennis, etc., etc.)