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[_AGATHA POSKET and CHARLOTTE go out._
_CIS comes in hurriedly._
CIS.
What's the matter, Guv?
MR. POSKET.
Your mother and Miss Verrinder are going out.
CIS.
Out of their minds? It's a horrid night.
MR. POSKET.
Yes, but Lady Jenkins is ill.
CIS.
Oh! Is ma mentioned in the will?
MR. POSKET.
Good gracious, what a boy! No, Cis, your mother is merely going to sit by Lady Jenkins' bedside, to hold her hand, and to tell her where one goes to--to buy pocket-handkerchiefs.
CIS.
By Jove! The mater can't be home again till half-past twelve or one o'clock.
MR. POSKET.
Much later if Lady Jenkins' condition is alarming.
CIS.
Hurray! [_He takes the watch out of MR. POSKET'S pocket._] Just half-past ten. Greenwich mean, eh, Guv?
[_He puts the watch to his ear, pulling MR. POSKET towards him by the chain._
MR. POSKET.
What an extraordinary lad!
CIS.
[_Returning watch._] Thanks. They have to get from here to Campden Hill and back again. I'll tell Wyke to get them the worst horse on the rank.
MR. POSKET.
My dear child!
CIS.
Three-quarters of an hour's journey from here at least. Twice three-quarters, one hour and a half. An hour with Lady Jenkins--when women get together, you know, Guv, they do talk--that's two hours and a half. Good. Guv, will you come with me?
MR. POSKET.
Go with you! Where?
CIS.
Hotel des Princes, Meek Street. A sharp hansom does it in ten minutes.
MR. POSKET.
Meek Street, Hotel des Princes! Child, do you know what you're talking about?
CIS.
Rather. Look here, Guv, honour bright--no blab if I show you a letter.
MR. POSKET.
I won't promise anything.
CIS.
You won't! Do you know, Guv, you are doing a very unwise thing to check the confidence of a lad like me?
MR. POSKET.
Cis, my boy!
CIS.
Can you calculate the inestimable benefit it is to a youngster to have some one always at his elbow, some one older, wiser, and better off than himself?
MR. POSKET.
Of course, Cis, of course, I _want_ you to make a companion of me.
CIS.
Then how the deuce can I do that if you won't come with me to Meek Street?
MR. POSKET.
