MRS. EDEN.

She complained of headache and bolted upstairs. Muriel is such an odd girl at times.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

A sweet one.

MRS. EDEN.

Perfectly adorable. Only I wish she wasn't so moody and uncertain.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

But a headache--[_sympathetically_] dear child!

MRS. EDEN.

An engaged girl ought not to have a headache--no girl ought. It's just one of those things that makes a man ponder.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Ponder?

MRS. EDEN.

Reflect. A man loves to think a girl is like an angel--beautiful pink and white right through, with no clockwork. The moment she complains of headache, or toothache, or a chilblain on the heel, the angel game is off, and she's got to try and hold her own as a simple mortal. And as a mortal she's not in it with a man. No, it's angel or nothing with us women. I remember my Mater saying to me when I was engaged to Jack, "Sybil, now mind! enjoy the very best of health till you have been married at least ten years; and then be sure you have an excellent motive for cracking-up." [_The clock tinkles out the half-hour. She glances at the clock._] Half-past-eleven! the dead of night for this house! [_Rising._] I'll be off to my cot.

[SOPHY _carries the_ d.u.c.h.eSS'S _dress into the bedroom._

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Coming to_ MRS. EDEN.] _Must_ you? Good-night.

MRS. EDEN.

So nice of you to allow me this gossip.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Delighted.

[_They kiss affectionately._

MRS. EDEN.

We go shopping together to-morrow, do we not?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Yes, yes.

MRS. EDEN.

[_With exaggerated regret._] To-morrow! your last day here! misery! [_At the door, finding she still has "Madame Plon" in her hand._] Oh! do you happen to be on this one?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Not that one.

MRS. EDEN.

I wonder whether you'd lend it to me?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Gladly.

MRS. EDEN.

As you say, there is something about these French writers--

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Style.

MRS. EDEN.

That's it--style. [_Opening the door._] Ah! lights out.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Can you see?

MRS. EDEN.

[_Going out._] There's just a glimmer--

[_She disappears._

d.u.c.h.eSS.

I'll keep the door open till you have turned the corner.

[SOPHY _comes back and stands watching the_ d.u.c.h.eSS. _The_ d.u.c.h.eSS _remains at the open door for a little, while, then kisses her hand to_ MRS. EDEN _and closes the door._

SOPHY.

Shall I brush your Grace's hair now?