LADY ORREYED.

I must, he looks so plain. [_Rousing_ SIR GEORGE.] Dodo! Dodo!

SIR GEORGE.

[_Stupidly._] 'Ullo!

LADY ORREYED.

Dodo, dear, you were snoring.

SIR GEORGE.

Oh, I say, you could 'a told me that by-and-by.

AUBREY.

You want a cigar, George; come into the billiard-room. [_Giving his arm to_ LADY ORREYED.] Cayley, bring Paula.

[AUBREY _and_ LADY ORREYED _go out._

SIR GEORGE.

[_Rising._] Hey, what! Billiard-room! [_Looking at his watch._] How goes the----? Phew! 'Ullo, 'Ullo! Whisky and pota.s.s!

[_He goes rapidly after_ AUBREY _and_ LADY ORREYED. PAULA _resumes playing._

PAULA.

[_After a pause._] Don't moon about after me, Cayley; follow the others.

DRUMMLE.

Thanks, by-and-by. [_Sitting._] That's pretty.

PAULA.

[_After another pause, still playing._] I wish you wouldn't stare so.

DRUMMLE.

Was I staring? I'm sorry. [_She plays a little longer, then stops suddenly, rises, and goes to the window, where she stands looking out._ DRUMMLE _moves from the ottoman to the settee._] A lovely night.

PAULA.

[_Startled._] Oh! [_Without turning to him._] Why do you hop about like a monkey?

DRUMMLE.

Hot rooms play the deuce with the nerves. Now, it would have done you good to have walked in the garden with us after dinner and made merry. Why didn't you?

PAULA.

You know why.

DRUMMLE.

Ah, you're thinking of the--difference between you and Aubrey?

PAULA.

Yes, I _am_ thinking of it.

DRUMMLE.

Well, so am I. How long----?

PAULA.

Getting on for three weeks.

DRUMMLE.

Bless me, it must be! And this would have been such a night to have healed it! Moonlight, the stars, the scent of flowers; and yet enough darkness to enable a kind woman to rest her hand for an instant on the arm of a good fellow who loves her. Ah, ha! it's a wonderful power, dear Mrs. Aubrey, the power of an offended woman!

Only realise it! Just that one touch--the mere tips of her fingers--and, for herself and another, she changes the colour of the whole world!

PAULA.

[_Turning to him, calmly._] Cayley, my dear man, you talk exactly like a very romantic old lady.

[_She leaves the window and sits playing with the knick-knacks on the table._

DRUMMLE.

[_To himself._] H'm, that hasn't done it! Well--ha, ha!--I accept the suggestion. An old woman, eh?

PAULA.

Oh, I didn't intend----

DRUMMLE.

But why not? I've every qualification--well, almost. And I confess it would have given this withered bosom a throb of grandmotherly satisfaction if I could have seen you and Aubrey at peace before I take my leave to-morrow.

PAULA.

To-morrow, Cayley!

DRUMMLE.