Jane (taking it).  Thank you, Mary. (Exit Mary to work up her next line.) A letter!  I wonder who it is from! (Reading the envelope.) “Miss Prendergast, Honeysuckle Lodge.” (She opens it with the air of one who has often received letters before, but feels that this one may play an important part in her life.) “Dear Miss Prendergast, I hope you will pardon the presumption of what I am about to write to you, but whether you pardon me or not, I ask you to listen to me.  I know of no woman for whose talents I have a greater admiration, or for whose qualities I have a more sincere affection than yourself.  Since I have known you, you have been the lodestar of my existence, the fountain of my inspiration.  I feel that, were your life joined to mine, the joint path upon which we trod would be the path to happiness, such as I have as yet hardly dared to dream of.  In short, dear Miss Prendergast, I ask you to marry me, and I will come in person for my answer.  Yours truly—­” (In a voice of intense surprise) “Jas. Bootle!”

[At the word “Bootle,” a wave of warm colour rushes over Alice and dyes her from neck to brow.  If she is not an actress of sufficient calibre to ensure this, she must do the best she can by starting abruptly and putting her hand to her throat.

Alice (aside, in a choking voice).  Mr Bootle!  In love with Jane!

Jane.  My dear!  The man who took me down to dinner!  Well!

Alice (picking up her work again and trying to be calm).  What will you say?

Jane (rather pleased with herself).  Well, really—­I—­this is—­Mr Bootle!  Fancy!

Alice (starting up).  Was that a ring? (She frowns at the prompter and a bell is heard to ring.) It is Mr Bootle!  I know his ring, I mean I know—­Dear, I think I will go and lie down.  I have a headache.

[She looks miserably at the audience, closes her eyes, and goes off with her handkerchief to her mouth, taking care not to fall over the furniture.

Enter Mary, followed by James Bootle.

Mary.  Mr Bootle. (Exit finally.)

Jane.  Good-morning, Mr Bootle!

Bootle.  I beg—­I thought—­Why, of course!  It’s Miss—­er-h’m, yes—­How do you do?  Did you get back safely last night?

Jane.  Yes, thank you, (Coyly.) I got your letter.

Bootle.  My letter? (Sees his letter on the table.  Furiously.) You opened my letter!

Jane (mistaking his fury for passion).  Yes—­James.  And (looking down on the ground) the answer is “Yes.”

Bootle (realizing the situation).  By George!

(Aside.) I have proposed to the wrong lady!  Tchck!

Jane.  You may kiss me, James.

Bootle.  Have you a sister?

Jane (missing the connection).  Yes, I have a younger sister, Alice. 
(Coldly.) But I hardly see—­

Bootle (beginning to understand how he made the mistake).  A younger sister!  Then you are Miss Prendergast?  And my letter—­Ah!