door, in a frightened whisper] Here's Mabel!
DOT. Heavens, and the waters under the earth!
CHRISTINE. If we only knew!
MABEL comes in, the three girls are silent, with their eyes fixed on their books.
MABEL. The silent company.
DOT. [Looking straight at her] We're chucking it for to-day.
MABEL. What's the matter?
CHRISTINE. Oh! nothing.
DOT. Something's happened.
MABEL. Really! I am sorry. [Hesitating] Is it bad enough for me to go?
CHRISTINE. Oh! no, Mabel!
DOT. [Sardonically] I should think very likely.
While she is looking from face to face, BILL comes in from the workroom. He starts to walk across the room, but stops, and looks stolidly at the four girls.
BILL. Exactly! Fact of the matter is, Miss Lanfarne, I'm engaged to my mother's maid.
No one moves or speaks. Suddenly MABEL LANFARNE goes towards him, holding out her hand. BILL does not take her hand, but bows. Then after a swift glance at the girls' faces MABEL goes out into the corridor, and the three girls are left staring at their brother.
BILL. [Coolly] Thought you might like to know. [He, too, goes out into the corridor.]
CHRISTINE. Great heavens!
JOAN. How awful!
CHRISTINE. I never thought of anything as bad as that.
JOAN. Oh! Chris! Something must be done!
DOT. [Suddenly to herself] Ha! When Father went up to have his glove buttoned!
There is a sound, JACKSON has came in from the corridor.
JACKSON. [To Dot] If you please, Miss, Studdenham's brought up the other two pups. He's just outside. Will you kindly take a look at them, he says?
There is silence.
DOT. [Suddenly] We can't.
CHRISTINE. Not just now, Jackson.
JACKSON. Is Studdenham and the pups to wait, Mm?
DOT shakes her head violently. But STUDDENHAM is seen already standing in the doorway, with a spaniel puppy in either side-pocket. He comes in, and JACKSON stands waiting behind him.
STUDDENHAM. This fellow's the best, Miss DOT. [He protrudes the right-hand pocket] I was keeping him for my girl—a proper greedy one—takes after his father.
The girls stare at him in silence.
DOT. [Hastily] Thanks, Studdenham, I see.
STUDDENHAM. I won't take 'em out in here. They're rather bold yet.
CHRISTINE. [Desperately] No, no, of course.
STUDDENHAM. Then you think you'd like him, Miss DOT? The other's got a white chest; she's a lady.
[He protrudes the left-hand pocket.]
DOT. Oh, yes! Studdenham; thanks, thanks awfully.
STUDDENHAM. Wonderful faithful creatures; follow you like a woman. You can't shake 'em off anyhow. [He protrudes the right-hand pocket] My girl, she'd set her heart on him, but she'll just have to do without.
DOT. [As though galvanised] Oh! no, I can't take it away from her.
STUDDENHAM. Bless you, she won't mind! That's settled, then. [He turns to the door. To the PUPPY] Ah! would you! Tryin' to wriggle out of it! Regular young limb! [He goes out, followed by JACKSON.]
CHRISTINE. How ghastly!
DOT. [Suddenly catching sight of the book in her hand] "Caste!" [She gives vent to a short sharp laugh.]
The curtain falls.
ACT III
It is five o'clock of the same day. The scene is the smoking-room, with walls of Leander red, covered by old steeplechase and hunting prints. Armchairs encircle a high ferulered hearth, in which a fire is burning. The curtains are not yet drawn across mullioned windows, but electric light is burning. There are two doors, leading, the one to the billiard-room, the other to a corridor. BILL is pacing up and doom; HAROLD, at the fireplace, stands looking at him with commiseration.
BILL. What's the time?
HAROLD. Nearly five. They won't be in yet, if that's any consolation. Always a tough meet—[softly] as the tiger said when he ate the man.
BILL. By Jove! You're the only person I can stand within a mile of me, Harold.
HAROLD. Old boy! Do you seriously think you're going to make it any better by marrying her?
[Bill shrugs his shoulders, still pacing the room.]
BILL. Look here! I'm not the sort that finds it easy to say things.
HAROLD. No, old man.
BILL. But I've got a kind of self-respect though you wouldn't think it!
HAROLD. My dear old chap!
BILL. This is about as low-down a thing as one could have done, I suppose—one's own mother's maid; we've known her since she was so high. I see it now that—I've got over the attack.
HAROLD. But, heavens! if you're no longer keen on her, Bill! Do apply your reason, old boy.
There is silence; while BILL again paces up and dozen.
BILL. If you think I care two straws about the morality of the thing.
HAROLD. Oh! my dear old man! Of course not!
BILL. It's simply that I shall feel such a d–d skunk, if I leave her in the lurch, with everybody knowing. Try it yourself; you'd soon see!
HAROLD. Poor old chap!
BILL. It's not as if she'd tried to force me into it. And she's a soft little thing. Why I ever made such a sickening ass of myself, I can't think. I never meant–
HAROLD. No, I know! But, don't do anything rash, Bill; keep your head, old man!
BILL. I don't see what loss I should be, if I did clear out of the country. [The sound of cannoning billiard balls is heard] Who's that knocking the balls about?
HAROLD. John, I expect. [The sound ceases.]
BILL. He's coming in here. Can't stand that!
As LATTER appears from the billiard-room, he goes hurriedly out.
LATTER. Was that Bill?
HAROLD. Yes.
LATTER. Well?
HAROLD.
