DANIEL (_still laughing_). And when I said I had sleeping sickness!...

SYLVIA (_weak with laughter_). Oh, uncle, how _could you_.

DANIEL (_wiping his eyes_). Oh dear, oh dear!

SYLVIA. Poor mother getting more mystified every minute, and bothered poor Tibbets till he doesn't know if he is on his head or his heels.

DANIEL (_rising suddenly_). But look here, they'll all be down in a minute. (SYLVIA _stands up._) They mustn't find me here, poised for flight. I must go at once. (_Going behind Chesterfield and picking up bag._)

SYLVIA (L. _of him_). Yes, but will you promise on your word of honour to come back the moment I send for you?

DANIEL. If you give me _your_ word of honour not to send for me until everything's quite all right and everyone is perfectly amiable towards me. I couldn't bear any more rebuffs. I should burst into tears if anybody even gave me a look!

SYLVIA. Yes, I'll promise.

DANIEL. I trust you because, after all, you spotted from the first.

SYLVIA. That wasn't very difficult. I've always had a good eye for hypocrites. (DANIEL _slaps her._) Mind you don't go any further afield than the _Green Hart_!

DANIEL. You bet I shan't!

(_Exit_ DANIEL _through window._)

SYLVIA (_looking out of window after him_). Bye-bye! (_Coming down stage._) Bless his heart!

(_Enter_ GRIGGS _from_ R. _with breakfast dishes which he places on sideboard._)

GRIGGS. Will you do the coffee as usual, miss?

SYLVIA. Yes, Griggs. By the way, get me a bigger bowl for those roses when you have time.

GRIGGS. Yes, miss.

(_He bangs loudly on a big gong, and exits_ R. _Enter_ MRS. DERMOTT _downstairs._)

SYLVIA. h.e.l.lo, mother. (_Kiss across_ L. _banisters._)

MRS. DERMOTT. Good morning, darling. Are there any letters?

SYLVIA. Only one for you, I think.

MRS. DERMOTT (_taking letter from table_). From Tibbets, I expect.

(_Sniffs at it._) No! From Isobel Harris. (_Sits at the head of the table._) I do hope she doesn't want to come and stay--I couldn't bear that. (_Opens it._) Oh no, it's only to say that f.a.n.n.y's engaged to an officer in the Coldstream Guards. How splendid for her.

SYLVIA. Poor f.a.n.n.y--I'm glad. (_Sits in chair on her mother's left._)

MRS. DERMOTT. Why do you say poor f.a.n.n.y, dear? I'm sure she's very fortunate. Now-a-days when nice men are so scarce. I was only saying----

SYLVIA. She didn't say he was a nice man--only that he was in the Coldstream Guards. I said poor because I can just imagine all her awful relations as bridesmaids, and her father and mother shoving her up the altar steps in their efforts to get her safely married.

MRS. DERMOTT. Isobel means well, although she's a little trying. But I've never liked Charlie--no man with such a long, droopy moustache could ever be really trusted. Besides, they're so insanitary. Sound the gong again, dear. I do wish they'd all learn to be a little more punctual.

(SYLVIA _does so, and returns to sideboard. Enter_ JOYCE _downstairs followed by_ OLIVER; _they are both obviously suffering from temper.

They both kiss mother._)

JOYCE (_disagreeably, as she comes downstairs_). All right! All right!--we're coming. What's the fuss? (_Sits on form._)

(OLIVER _crosses to Chesterfield, picks up_ SYLVIA'S _paper and reads, pacing up and down._)

MRS. DERMOTT. There's no fuss, darling, but it's stupid to let the breakfast get cold. I've got mushrooms this morning, specially because Uncle Daniel likes them.

(_Enter_ BOBBIE _from garden profoundly gloomy. Kisses mother._)

BOBBIE. You could hear that beastly gong a mile off.

(SYLVIA _crosses to table with coffee and milk._)

MRS. DERMOTT. I'm so glad, dear. It shows it's a good gong. Ring the bell, will you, Oliver? (OLIVER _does so._) Where's Evangeline? She's generally quite an early bird.

(_Enter_ EVANGELINE _downstairs. She is distinctly depressed._)

EVANGELINE (_on the stairs_). Here I am, mother (_kisses_ MRS. DERMOTT).

(_With sarcasm._) What a pity it is that the bath water isn't a _little_ hotter. I hate tepidity in anything. (_Sits on_ SYLVIA'S _left._)

(BOBBIE _serves bacon, sitting at the foot of the table, facing_ MRS.

DERMOTT.)

OLIVER. If Joyce didn't bounce in and take it all it _would_ be hotter.

JOYCE. I didn't have a bath at all this morning, so there.

OLIVER. Well, you're a dirty little pig then.

MRS. DERMOTT. There's probably something wrong with the boiler. I'll see about it after breakfast.

(_Enter_ GRIGGS, _comes below_ MRS. DERMOTT.)

Oh, Griggs, just tap on Miss Crombie's door, will you, and tell her that breakfast is ready.

GRIGGS. Miss Crombie wished me to say that she is taking breakfast in her bedroom, madam. I'm sending up a tray.

MRS. DERMOTT. Quite right, Griggs. I wonder if she's feeling ill or anything. I'll go up presently. Oh, and will you find out if Mr. Davis is coming down soon?

GRIGGS. Mr. Davis is not in his room, madam.

MRS. DERMOTT. Not? How very strange--he's probably in the garden somewhere. That'll do, Griggs?

(_Exit_ GRIGGS, R.)