[_She goes into the hall and he stands watching her till she disappears. Then he closes the door and faces_ LADY FILSON _and_ SIR RANDLE.

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Mournfully but good-humouredly._] Ha! _That's_ over.

LADY FILSON.

Over?

SIR RANDLE.

Over?

SIR TIMOTHY.

Over. [_Pa.s.sing_ LADY FILSON _and shaking hands with_ SIR RANDLE.] It might be that it 'ud be more decent and appropriate for me to write you a letter, Sir Randle; but I'm not much of a hand at letter-writing, and I've your daughter's permission to tell you by word of mouth that--that she--[_to_ LADY FILSON] but perhaps you can guess, both of you----?

LADY FILSON.

Guess----?

SIR RANDLE.

Guess----?

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Rumpling his hair._] The fact is, it isn't exactly easy or agreeable to describe what's occurred in plain terms.

SIR RANDLE.

[_Encouragingly._] Can't you--can't you give us a hint----?

LADY FILSON.

The merest hint----

SIR TIMOTHY.

Hint, is it! Ah, I can manage that. [_With a bold effort._] You're not to have me for your son-in-law. Is that hint enough?

LADY FILSON.

[_Under her breath._] Oh!

SIR RANDLE.

G.o.d bless me! Frankly, I had no conception----

LADY FILSON.

Nor I--the faintest.

SIR TIMOTHY.

And as I've received a great deal of kindness and hospitality in this house, I thought that, in common grat.i.tude, I ought to explain the cause of my abrupt disappearance from your circle.

SIR RANDLE.

[_In a tone of deep commiseration._] I--I understand. You--you intend to----?

SIR TIMOTHY.

To take a trip round the world, to endeavour to recover some of the wind that's been knocked out of me.

SIR RANDLE.

[_Closing his eyes._] Distressing! Distressing!

LADY FILSON.

Most. [_Coming to_ SIR TIMOTHY, _feelingly._] Oh--oh, Sir Timothy----!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_With sudden bitterness._] Ah, Sir Timothy, Sir Timothy, Sir Timothy!

And what's the use of my baronetcy _now_, will you inform me--the baronetcy I bought and paid for, in hard cash, to better my footing in society? The mockery of it! Now that I've lost _her_, the one woman I shall ever love, I don't care a rap for my footing in society; [_walking away_] and anybody may have my baronetcy for tuppence!

SIR RANDLE.

[_Reprovingly._] My good friend----!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Turning to_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON.] And why not! The only advantage of my baronetcy, it strikes me, is that I'm charged double prices at every hotel I lay my head in, and am expected to shower gold on the waiters. [_Sitting on the settee on the right and leaning his head on his hand._] Oh, the mockery of it; the mockery of it!

SIR RANDLE.

[_Going to him._] If my profound sympathy--and Lady Filson's--[_to_ LADY FILSON] I may speak for you, Winnie----?

LADY FILSON.

Certainly.

SIR RANDLE.

[_To_ SIR TIMOTHY.] If our profound sympathy is the smallest consolation to you----