I don't wish that, Ellean.

ELLEAN.

I will offer to go down to the village with Paula this morning--shall I?

AUBREY.

[_Touching her hand gently._] Thank you--do.

ELLEAN.

When I've looked after Rover, I'll come back to her.

[_She goes out;_ PAULA _ceases playing, and turns on the music-stool looking at_ AUBREY.

PAULA.

Well, have you and Ellean had your little confidence?

AUBREY.

Confidence?

PAULA.

Do you think I couldn't feel it, like a pain between my shoulders?

AUBREY.

Ellean is coming back in a few minutes to be with you. [_Bending over her._] Paula, Paula dear, is this how you keep your promise?

PAULA.

Oh! [_Rising impatiently and crossing swiftly to the settee, where she sits, moving restlessly._] I _can't_ keep my promise; I _am_ jealous; it won't be smothered. I see you looking at her, watching her; your voice drops when you speak to her. I know how fond you are of that girl, Aubrey.

AUBREY.

What would you have? I've no other home for her. She is my daughter.

PAULA.

She is your saint. Saint Ellean!

AUBREY.

You have often told me how good and sweet you think her.

PAULA.

Good!--yes! Do you imagine _that_ makes me less jealous? [_Going to him and clinging to his arm._] Aubrey, there are two sorts of affection--the love for a woman you respect, and the love for a woman you--love. She gets the first from you: I never can.

AUBREY.

Hush, hush! you don't realise what you say.

PAULA.

If Ellean cared for me only a little, it would be different. I shouldn't be jealous then. Why doesn't she care for me?

AUBREY.

She--she--she will, in time.

PAULA.

You can't say that without stuttering.

AUBREY.

Her disposition seems a little unresponsive; she resembles her mother in many ways; I can see it every day.

PAULA.

She's marble. It's a shame. There's not the slightest excuse; for all she knows, I'm as much a saint as she--only married. Dearest, help me to win her over!

AUBREY.

Help you?

PAULA.

You can. Teach her that it is her duty to love me; she hangs on to every word you speak. I'm sure, Aubrey, that the love of a nice woman who believed me to be like herself would do me a world of good. You'd get the benefit of it as well as I. It would soothe me; it would make me less horribly restless; it would take this--this--mischievous feeling from me. [_Coaxingly._] Aubrey!

AUBREY.

Have patience; everything will come right.

PAULA.

Yes, if you help me.

AUBREY.

In the meantime you will tear up your letter to Lady Orreyed, won't you?

PAULA.

[_Kissing his hand._] Of course I will--anything!