ROPER.

[_Rising and straightening himself out._] Ma-- Mrs. Upjohn-- Lily----

JIMMIE.

[_Scornfully._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo----!

ROPER.

[_To JIMMIE._] P'sh! [_Impressively._] Ma-- Lily-- for years-- longer than it's agreeable to count-- I've been a patron of the drama-- particularly musical comedy, of which I've studied the development with especial interest.

JIMMIE.

[_Resting her elbows upon the back of the settee._] Yes, you've studied a lot of development, Lal, in your day.

ROPER.

[_Ignoring JIMMIE._] It's been a fad with me; I put it no higher than that. [_Producing his gloves._] But I've devoted time to it----

JIMMIE.

Any amount.

ROPER.

[_Drawing a glove on._] Often to the neglect of my ventures in the City. Here I am _now_, for instance.

JIMMIE.

That's obvious.

ROPER.

And-- I frankly admit it-- I've had more than one serious dispute with _Mrs._ Roper on the subject. [_JIMMIE softly whistles a few bars of "Rule, Britannia."_] Yesterday, by a coincidence-- [_feeling the outside of his breast-pocket_] letter from the wife-- full o'

complaints-- haven't been to Bexhill, to her and the kids, for weeks.

And to do Ellen Roper justice, she's not the woman to grumble without cause. [_Picking up his hat and cane which he has placed upon the centre table._] Dash it all, home ties _are_ home ties! [_Polishing his hat with his sleeve._] And, taking one consideration with another-- and after this-- this occurrence-- it's my intention for the future-- my firm intention----

LILY.

[_Running to ROPER and throwing her arms around his neck._] Oh, Uncle Lal, not altogether! We're tired and cross this morning! Not altogether!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Behind the centre table._] No, no, Uncle, you mustn't----!

LILY.

[_To ROPER._] Forgive us! [_Coaxingly._] Mother and Jimmie are cats----!

MRS. UPJOHN AND JIMMIE.

Oh----!

[_The door on the left opens, and GLADYS enters with a card on a salver._

GLADYS.

[_Advancing to LILY._] Are you _in_?

LILY.

In?

GLADYS.

[_Surveying LILY with mingled disdain and pity._] Oh you _do_ look washed out!

LILY.

[_Going to GLADYS._] Never you mind whether I look washed out or not.

Who is it?

[_LILY takes the card, reads some writing upon it, and stands twiddling the card in her fingers._

GLADYS.

They're in the dining-room.

LILY.

[_To GLADYS, after a pause._] W-wait outside-- on the landing.

GLADYS.

Oh, all right. _This_ won't get my silver cleaned.

[_GLADYS withdraws. LILY waits for the door to close and then walks about distractedly._

LILY.

Oh, why can't they leave me alone! What do they want with me now, both of them!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moving towards LILY._] 'Oo----?

LILY.

Nicko's downstairs-- with Lord Farncombe.