MISS. BEECH. D' you think they'll do her any good?

d.i.c.k. [Crestfallen.] I thought she'd like--I don't want to worry her--you might try.

[MISS BEECH shakes her head.]

Why not?

MISS BEECH. The poor little creature won't let me in.

d.i.c.k. You've been up then!

MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Of course I've been up. I've not got a stone for my heart, young man!

d.i.c.k. All right! I suppose I shall just have to get along somehow.

MISS BEECH. [With devilry.] That's what we've all got to do.

d.i.c.k. [Gloomily.] But this is too brutal for anything!

MISS BEECH. Worse than ever happened to any one!

d.i.c.k. I swear I'm not thinking of myself.

MISS BEECH. Did y' ever know anybody that swore they were?

d.i.c.k. Oh! shut up!

MISS BEECH. You'd better go in and get yourself a partner.

d.i.c.k. [With pale desperation.] Look here, Peachey, I simply loathe all those girls.

MISS BEECH. Ah-h! [Ironically.] Poor lot, are n't they?

d.i.c.k. All right; chaff away, it's good fun, isn't it? It makes me sick to dance when Joy's lying there. Her last night, too!

MISS BEECH. [Sidling to him.] You're a good young man, and you 've got a good heart.

[She takes his hand, and puts it to her cheek.]

d.i.c.k. Peachey--I say, Peachey d' you think there 's--I mean d' you think there'll ever be any chance for me?

MISS BEECH. I thought that was coming! I don't approve of your making love at your time of life; don't you think I 'm going to encourage you.

d.i.c.k. But I shall be of age in a year; my money's my own, it's not as if I had to ask any one's leave; and I mean, I do know my own mind.

MISS BEECH. Of course you do. n.o.body else would at your age, but you do.

d.i.c.k. I would n't ask her to promise, it would n't be fair when she 's so young, but I do want her to know that I shall never change.

MISS BEECH. And suppose--only suppose--she's fond of you, and says she'll never change.

d.i.c.k. Oh! Peachey! D' you think there's a chance of that--do you?

MISS BEECH. A-h-h!

d.i.c.k. I wouldn't let her bind herself, I swear I wouldn't.

[Solemnly.] I'm not such a selfish brute as you seem to think.

MISS BEECH. [Sidling close to him and in a violent whisper.] Well-- have a go!

d.i.c.k. Really? You are a brick, Peachey!

[He kisses her.]

MISS BEACH. [Yielding pleasurably; then remembering her principles.]

Don't you ever say I said so! You're too young, both of you.

d.i.c.k. But it is exceptional--I mean in my case, is n't it?

[The COLONEL and MRS. GWYN are coming down the lawn.]

MISS BEECH. Oh! very!

[She sits beneath the tree and fans herself.]

COLONEL. The girls are all sitting out, d.i.c.k! I've been obliged to dance myself. Phew!

[He mops his brow.]

[d.i.c.k swinging round goes rushing off towards the house.]

[Looking after him.] Hallo! What's the matter with him? Cooling your heels, Peachey? By George! it's hot. Fancy the poor devils in London on a night like this, what? [He sees the moon.] It's a full moon. You're lucky to be down here, Molly.

MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice.] Very!

MISS BEECH. Oh! so you think she's lucky, do you?

COLONEL. [Expanding his nostrils.] Delicious scent to-night! Hay and roses--delicious.

[He seats himself between them.]

A shame that poor child has knocked up like this. Don't think it was the sun myself--more likely neuralgic--she 's subject to neuralgia, Molly.

MRS. GWYN. [Motionless.] I know.

COLONEL. Got too excited about your coming. I told Nell not to keep worrying her about her frock, and this is the result. But your Aunt --you know--she can't let a thing alone!

MISS BEECH. Ah! 't isn't neuralgia.