No More Learning

You took it yourself.

Mrs. G. Yes, but if I hadn't taken it, you wouldn't have said a word.
I think this Harriet Herriott--it's like a name in a book--is an
interfering old Thing.

Capt. G. (Aside. ) So long as you thoroughly understand that she is old,
I don't much care what you think. (Aloud. ) Very good, dear. Would you
like to write and tell her so? She's seven thousand miles away.

Mrs. G.
I don't want to have anything to do with her, but you ought to
have told me. (Turning to last page of letter. ) And she patronizes me,
too. I've never seen her! (Reads. ) "I do not know how the world stands
with you; in all human probability I shall never know; but whatever I
may have said before, I pray for her sake more than for yours that all
may be well. I have learned what misery means, and I dare not wish that
any one dear to you should share my knowledge. "

Capt. G. Good God! Can't you leave that letter alone, or, at least,
can't you refrain from reading it aloud? I've been through it once. Put
it back on the desk. Do you hear me?

Mrs. G.