DELIA (_moving down_ R. _a little_). Oh, I'm so sorry; I thought you knew. What lovely flowers! Are they for my aunt?

DEVENISH. To whom does one bring violets? To modest, shrinking, tender youth.

DELIA. I don't think we have anybody here like that.

DEVENISH (_with a bow and holding out the violets to her_). Miss Delia, they are for you.

DELIA (_smelling and taking violets_). Oh, how nice of you! But I'm afraid I oughtn't to take them from you under false pretences; I don't shrink.

DEVENISH. A fanciful way of putting it, perhaps. They are none the less for you.

DELIA. Well, it's awfully kind of you. (_Puts flowers down. Then she moves up to the cupboard. He follows on her_ L. _and opens the door_.) I'm afraid I'm not a very romantic person. (_Turning to him in cupboard doorway_.) Aunt Belinda does all the romancing in our family.

DEVENISH. Your aunt is a very remarkable woman.

DELIA. She is. Don't you dare to say a word against her. (_Takes up a vase from a chair in cupboard and shakes it as if draining it_.)

DEVENISH. My dear Miss Delia, nothing could be further from my thoughts.

Why, am I not indebted to her for that great happiness which has come to me in these last few days?

DELIA (_surprised_). Good gracious! and I didn't know anything about it. (_Coming down to_ R. _of table with vase_.) But what about poor Mr. Baxter?

DEVENISH (_stiffly, crossing over to fireplace, very annoyed_). I must beg that Mr. Baxter's name be kept out of our conversation.

DELIA (_going up to table behind Chesterfield up_ L.). But I thought Mr. Baxter and you were such friends.

(DELIA _takes water carafe from the table and smiles at_ DEVENISH-- _which he does not see_.)

Do tell me what's happened. (_Moving down to_ R. _of table_ C., _she sits and arranges the flowers_.) I seem to have lost myself.

DEVENISH (_coming to the back of_ C. _table and reclining on it_.) What has happened, Miss Delia, is that I have learnt at last the secret that my heart has been striving to tell me for weeks past. As soon as I saw that gracious lady, your aunt, I knew that I was in love.

Foolishly I took it for granted that it was she for whom my heart was thrilling. How mistaken I was! Directly you came, you opened my eyes, and now----

DELIA. Mr. Devenish, you don't say you're proposing to me?

DEVENISH. I am. I feel sure I am. (_Leaning towards her_.) Delia, I love you.

DELIA. How exciting of you!

DEVENISH (_with a modest shrug_). It's nothing; I am a poet.

DELIA. You really want to marry me?

DEVENISH. Such is my earnest wish.

DELIA. But what about my aunt?

DEVENISH (_simply_). She will be my aunt-in-law.

DELIA. She'll be rather surprised.

DEVENISH. Delia, I will be frank with you. (_Sits_.) I admit that I made Mrs. Tremayne an offer of marriage.

DELIA (_excitedly_). You really did? Was it that first afternoon I came?

DEVENISH. Yes.

DELIA. Oh, I wish I'd been there!

DEVENISH (_with dignity, rising and moving to_ L. _of table_).

It is not my custom to propose in the presence of a third party. It is true that on the occasion you mention a man called Baxter was on the lawn, but I regarded him no more than the old apple-tree or the flower-beds, or any other of the fixtures.

DELIA. What did she say?

DEVENISH. She accepted me conditionally.

DELIA. Oh, do tell me!

DEVENISH. It is rather an unhappy story. This man called Baxter in his vulgar way also made a proposal of marriage. Mrs. Tremayne was gracious enough to imply that she would marry whichever one of us fulfilled a certain condition.

DELIA. How sweet of her!

DEVENISH. It is my earnest hope, Miss Delia, that the man called Baxter will be the victor. As far as is consistent with honour, I shall endeavour to let Mr. Baxter (_banging the table with his hand_) win.

DELIA. What was the condition?

DEVENISH. That I am not at liberty to tell.

DELIA. Oh!

DEVENISH. It is, I understand, to be a surprise for you.

DELIA. How exciting! (_Rising and taking vase of violets which she places up_ R.) Mr. Devenish, you have been very frank (_coming to front of settee_ R. _and sitting_). May I be equally so?

(DEVENISH _crosses to her and bows in acquiescence_.) Why do you wear your hair so long?

DEVENISH (_pleased_). You have noticed it?

DELIA. Well, yes, I have.

DEVENISH. I wear it so to express my contempt for the conventions of so-called society. DELIA. I always thought that people wore it very very short if they despised the conventions of society.

DEVENISH. I think that the mere fact that my hair annoys Mr. Baxter is sufficient justification for its length.

DELIA. But if it annoys me too?

DEVENISH (_heroically_). It shall go. (_Sits on settee above_ DELIA.)