LADY OWBRIDGE.

[_Coming down the steps._] Oh, I am really very upset!

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Upset?

LADY OWBRIDGE.

About your maid. The circ.u.mstance has only just been reported to me--you have lost your maid. [_Seeing_ FRAYNE.] Is that Sir Chichester? [FRAYNE _advances and shakes hands._] I didn't observe you, in the dusk. Have you seen Henry? I wonder if he is waiting for us in the drawing-room?

FRAYNE.

May I go and hunt for him?

LADY OWBRIDGE.

It would be kind of you.

[FRAYNE _goes up the steps and away._ MRS. EDEN _comes to the stone bench._ MURIEL _returns slowly, coming from among the trees and appearing on the further side of the low hedge._

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_To_ LADY OWBRIDGE.] Pray don't be in the least concerned for me, dear Lady Owbridge; the absence of my maid is quite a temporary matter. Poor Watson's father is unwell and I packed her off to him this afternoon.

She will be back by mid-day to-morrow, she promises me.

LADY OWBRIDGE.

But, dear me! in the meantime my own woman shall wait upon you.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

I couldn't dream of it.

MRS. EDEN.

Why not my Gilchrist--or let us share her?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

No, no; the housemaid who a.s.sisted me into this gown--

LADY OWBRIDGE.

Chalmers? well, there's Chalmers, certainly. But I fear that Chalmers has hot hands. Or Denham--no, Denham is suffering from a bad knee. Of course, there's Bruce! Bruce is painfully near-sighted--but would Bruce do? Or little Atkins--?

SOPHY.

[_Stepping from behind the bench, and confronting_ LADY OWBRIDGE--_in a quiet voice._] Or I, my lady?

LADY OWBRIDGE.

You, my dear?

SOPHY.

Why shouldn't _I_ attend upon her Grace to-night and in the morning?

[_With half a courtesy to the_ d.u.c.h.eSS.] I should dearly like to have the honour.

[MURIEL _comes forward, staring at_ SOPHY.

MRS. EDEN.

Now, that's very proper and good-natured of you, Sophy.

LADY OWBRIDGE.

But, Miss Fullgarney--

SOPHY.

[_Modestly._] Oh, I never feel like Miss Fullgarney out of my business, my lady. You see, I was maid for years, and it's second nature to me.

Do let me, my lady--do, your Grace!

LADY OWBRIDGE.

d.u.c.h.ess--?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Hesitatingly._] Oh--oh, by all means. [_To_ SOPHY.] Thank you.

[_The gong sounds in the distance again, as_ QUEX--_now in evening-dress--and_ FRAYNE _return together, above the hedge._

LADY OWBRIDGE.

Here is Quex.

[_The ladies, except_ MURIEL, _join_ FRAYNE _and_ QUEX.

MURIEL.

[_To_ SOPHY.] What are you doing?

SOPHY.

[_Breathlessly._] The housekeeper showed me over the house. I remember--her maid's room is at the end of a pa.s.sage leading from the boudoir!

MURIEL.