Miss P. As soon as you can induce him to go—­to-morrow, if possible.

Podb. I don’t believe he’ll go, you know, for one thing!

Miss P. (demurely).  I think you will find him open to persuasion.  But go and try, Mr. PODBURY.

Podb. (to himself, as he withdraws).  Well, I’ve let myself in for a nice thing!  Rummest way of treating a proposal I ever heard of.  I should just like to tell that fellow RUSKIN what I think of his precious ideas.  But there’s one thing, though—­she can’t care about CULCHARD, or she wouldn’t want him carted off like this....  Hooray, I never thought of that before!  Why, there he is, dodging about to find out how I’ve got on.  I’ll tackle him straight off.

    [CULCHARD and PODBURY meet at the head of the staircase,
    and speak at the same moment.

Culch. Er—­PODBURY it has } occurred to me that we might—­ }
                                } leave this place to-morrow!
Podb. I say, CULCHARD, we } really ought to—­ }

Podb. Hullo! we’re both of one mind for once, eh? (To himself.) Poor old beggar!  Got the sack!  That explains a lot.  Well, I won’t tell him anything about this business just now.

Culch. So it appears. (To himself.) (Had his quietus, evidently.  Ah, well, I won’t exult over him.

    [They go off together to consult a time-table.

Miss.  P. (on the balcony, musing).  Poor fellows!  I couldn’t very well say anything more definite at present.  By the time I see them again, I may understand my own heart better.  Really, it is rather an exciting sensation, having two suitors under vow and doing penance at the same time—­and all for my sake!  I hope, though, they won’t mention it to one another—­or to BOB.  BOB does not understand these things, and he might—­ But, after all, there are only two of them.  And RUSKIN distinctly says that every girl who is worth anything ought always to have half-a-dozen or so.  Two is really quite moderate.

* * * * *

A TOO-ENGAGING MAIDEN’S REPLY.

(BY MR. PUNCH’S KIND PERMISSION.)

[Illustration]

  Yes, I read your effusion that lately got printed,
    And at first never guessed there was anything meant. 
  But when someone suggested that something was hinted,
    On your verses some time I reluctantly spent. 
  They are fair—­and perhaps you consider them clever,
    You’re a poet, no doubt, of a minor degree,
  But I never was startled so strangely—­no, never! 
    As to learn that the lady you mentioned was me!