No; it was not a success.

Miss Macfarlane.

Well, we mustn't ask why?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Oh, I'm in the humour for confession. I think you can understand. We got on well enough while I was--free. But he did the chivalrous thing--asked me to marry him; and I was glad enough to scramble back to the platform of respectability.

Miss Macfarlane.

Well, I understand that, anyhow.

Mrs. Tremaine.

That seemed to kill the romance, such as it was. I need not go into the sordid details, but we quarrelled finally about money--my money. My husband took to gambling in stocks. But I have managed to keep my little pittance, fortunately. Well, that is enough of my affairs. Have you any children, Constance?

Mrs. Denham.

One little girl, just nine. Have you any?

Mrs. Tremaine.

No--none.

Miss Macfarlane.

A woman who has had such unpleasant experiences ought to hate and despise men. But of course _you_ don't?

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_laughing_) No--I don't think I hate men exactly. I despise some men heartily.

Miss Macfarlane.

They're gey ill to live wi', eh?

Mrs. Tremaine.

I don't think marriage suits me, somehow. I suppose it suits some people. But I think it often tends to reduce them to a dead level of commonplace. The artificial bond makes people too sure of each other. It does not do to take love too much for granted, I think.

(_Re-enter Denham._)

Mrs. Denham.

Well, Arthur, have you got rid of Mr. Fitzgerald?

Denham.

Yes--I'm so glad to have made your acquaintance, Mrs. Tremaine.

Mrs. Tremaine.

Thanks. It is so pleasant meeting unconventional people.

Miss Macfarlane.

(_Rising_) Eh! we've all been getting solemn and lugubrious. I must be going, my dear. Won't you show me your drawing-room? (_Mrs.

Denham rises._) You wanted my advice about curtains, didn't you?

Mrs. Denham.

Will you excuse me, Blanche? We are refurnishing our drawing-room. I don't want _you_ to come just yet. Arthur will entertain you.

Denham.

Oh, with pleasure! (_Exeunt Mrs. Denham and Miss Macfarlane._) How do you think Constance is looking, Mrs. Tremaine? (_Draws chair over, and sits near her._)

Mrs. Tremaine.

It struck me she was looking rather worn and ill.

Denham.

I'm afraid she is.

Mrs. Tremaine.

She has let herself run down too much. Does she go in for exercise--tennis or anything?

Denham.

Nothing of the kind, I am sorry to say.

Mrs. Tremaine.

Oh, I could not live without exercise! I used to ride while I could afford it, and I always try to do gymnastics or something.

Denham.

I'm sure you're right. Do you intend to stay in town now?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Yes, I hope to get some work. I have enough income to keep me going; but I want some real employment.

Denham.

Quite right. (_Rises, and puts log of wood on fire, then stands with tongs in his hand and looks at her; puts down tongs._) Well, until you get something that suits you, I wish you would give me some sittings. I'll give you the regular model's wages--a shilling an hour--no, I'll give you two--two shillings an hour--there!