_Mr. H._ (_who is of the same opinion, but considers it beneath him to betray his sentiments_). Can't say, I'm sure; I ain't a judge of blushing myself. I've forgotten how it's done.
_Polly_. Ah! I dessay you found it convenient to forget. (_A pause. Mr. H. smiles in well-pleased acknowledgment of this tribute to his brazen demeanour._) Did ARTHUR send you a telegraph?--he sent FLO one. [_This is added with a significance intended to excite Mr. H.'s jealousy._
_Mr. H._ (_unperturbed_). No; he telegraphed to father, though. He's gettin' on well over at Melbun, ain't he? They think a lot of him out there. And now gettin' his name in the paper, too, like that, why--
_Flo_. That'll do him a lot of good, 'aving his name in the paper, won't it?
_Mr. H._ Oh, ARTHUR's gettin' on fine. Have you read the letters he's sent over? No? Well, you come in to-morrow evening and have a look at 'em. Look sharp, or they'll be lent out again; they've been the reg'lar round, I can tell you. I shall write and blow 'im up, though, for not sending me a telegraft, too.
_Polly_. You! 'Oo are _you_? You're on'y his brother, you are. It's different, his sending one to FLO.
_Mr. H._ (_not altogether relishing this last suggestion_). Ah, well, I dessay I shall go out there myself, some day.
[_Looks at Miss FLO, to see how she likes that._
_Flo_. Yes, you'd better. It would make you quite a man, wouldn't it? [_Both girls titter._
_Mr. H._ (_nettled_). 'Ere, I say, I'm off. Good-bye! Come on, ALF!
_Polly_. No, don't go away yet. Shall you take _'er_ out with you, ERNIE, eh?
_Polly_ (_archly_). Oh, you think we 'aven't 'eard. 'Er where you live now. _We_ know all about it!
_Mr. H._ Then you know more than what _I_ do. There's nothing between me and anybody where _I_ live. But I'm going out to Ostralia, though. I've saved up 'alf of what I want already.
_Polly_ (_banteringly_). You _are_ a good boy. Save up enough for _me_ too!
_Mr. H._ (_surveying her with frank disparagement_). _You_? Oh, lor! Not if I know it!
_Flo_ (_with an exaggerated sigh_). Oh dear, I wish I was over there. They say they're advertising for maidservants--fifteen shillings a week, and the washing put out. I'd marry a prince or a lord duke, perhaps, when I got there. ARTHUR sent me a fashion-book.