Kit. We will keep them here, so they can't go exploring after Mabel and Emma and find out the secret too soon. Then, just as they are beginning to get nervous about meeting Miss Griffin, who they believe has found out Mabel and Emma are writing to them, then we will tell and beg to be forgiven. I hope they won't be hateful. (Knock at the door.)
Gla. Horrors! Here they are already. Run, Kittie, and do be careful what you say. Come in!
(Exit Kittie hurriedly, R., after a last glance in the mirror. Enter Charlie and Fred, C., with dress-suit cases which they leave L. C., in front of divan.)
Charlie (taking Gladys's hands). Well, Gladys, I am so glad to see you. It seems years since last Christmas. Hello, I quite forgot Kit-where's Kit? Fred is just dying to see her, and resume that tender little acquaintance of three years ago, -aren't you, old man?
Gla. (shaking hands with Fred). I'm glad to see you, Fred. Kittie has gone out for a few moments to see one of the other girls, I think. She will be charmed to see you.
Fred (eagerly). Will she? I shall he very glad to renew my old acquaintance with Miss Goldthwaite. It is some time since I saw her, but I am sure I should know her anywhere.
Gla. Oh, she looks just the same as she used to, exactly. (Nervously.) She hasn't changed a particle.
Char. Only more sedate, I hope, as becomes a grave and reverend senior.
Fred (fervently). Oh, I hope not!
Gla. But you are seniors too.
Char. Well, aren't we grave and reverend?
Gla. Oh, very! And now, if you will excuse me a moment, I will go and find Kittie. I think I know just where she is. (Exit hurriedly, R.)
Char. (standing, L., hands in pockets). H'm! Not a very warm reception, I call it.
Fred. Oh, very! (Mimicking Gladys's tone.) Now, what the deuce did she mean by that? I believe they suspect something about Mabel and Emma.
Char. There's something queer about the whole thing, anyway. Why didn't those girls meet us at the station as they promised? Then we could have planned what to do this evening so as not to get confoundedly mixed with our two sets of cousins.
Fred. That Miss Griffin is a regular tartar, they say, and we have got to do it up brown for Mabel and Emma, as their brother and cousin, and lie like—freshmen, or the girls will be expelled, sure.
Char. Hang it! What the deuce did they want to write us those confounded letters on the sly for, anyway? And then get found out too. Just like girls!
