Mrs. Perkins.  Oh, Emma!  You don’t think—­

Perkins.  Cheerful prospect.  But I say, Yardsley, you have arranged for the water supply; how about its exit?  How does the water get out of the tub?

Yardsley.  It doesn’t, unless you want to bore a hole in the floor, and let it flow into the billiard-room below.  We’ve just got to hustle that scene along, so that the climax will be reached before the tub overflows.

Barlow.  Perhaps we’d better test the thing now.  Maybe my tub isn’t large enough for the scene.  It would be awkward if the heroine had to seize a dipper and bail the fountain out right in the middle of an impassioned rebuke to Hartley.

Perkins.  All right—­go ahead.  Test it.  Test anything.  I’ll supply the Croton pipes.

Yardsley.  None of you fellows happen to have a length of hose with you, do you?

Bradley.  I left mine in my other clothes.

Mrs. Bradley.  That’s just like you men.  You grow flippant over very serious matters.  For my part, if I am to play Gwendoline, I shall not bail out the fountain even to save poor dear Bessie’s floor.

Yardsley.  Oh, it’ll be all right.  Only, if you see the fountain getting too full, speak faster.

Barlow.  We might announce a race between the heroine and the fountain.  It would add to the interest of the play.  This is an athletic age.

Perkins.  I suppose it wouldn’t do to turn the water off in case of danger.

Barlow.  It could be done, but it wouldn’t look well.  The audience might think the fountain had had an attack of stage fright.  Where is the entrance from the ballroom to be?

Yardsley.  It ought to be where the fireplace is.  That’s one reason why I think the portieres will look well there.

Mrs. Perkins.  But I don’t see how that can be.  Nobody could come in there.  There wouldn’t be room behind for any one to stand, would there?

Bradley.  I don’t know.  That fireplace is large, and only two people have to come in that way.  The rising curtain discloses Gwendoline just having come in.  If Hartley, the villain, and Jack Pendleton, the manly young navy officer, who represents virtue, and dashes in at the right moment to save Gwendoline, could sit close and stand the discomfort of it, they might squeeze in there and await their cues.

Mrs. Perkins.  Sit in the fireplace?

Yardsley.  Yes.  Why not?

Perkins.  Don’t you interfere, Bess, Yardsley is managing this show, and if he wants to keep the soubrette waiting on the mantel-piece it’s his lookout, and not ours.

Yardsley.  By-the-way, Thaddeus, Wilkins has backed out, and you are to play the villain.

Perkins.  I?  Never!

Barlow.  Oh, but you must.  All you have to do is frown and rant and look real bad.

Perkins.  But I can’t act.

Bradley.  That doesn’t make any difference.  We don’t want a villain that the audience will fall in love with.  That would be immoral.  The more you make them despise you, the better.