n with a lot of swells
now, Brodrick.

SIR GEORGE. No, no; you don't understand me. The Duke is this young
fellow's uncle by marriage. His Grace married a sister of Lady Cleeve's
--of Cleeve's mother, you know.

KIRKE. Oh! This looks as if the family are trying to put a finger in
the pie.

SIR GEORGE. The Duke may be here by mere chance. Still, as you say, it
does look--[Lowering his voice as KIRKE eyes an opening door.] Who's
that?

KIRKE. The woman.

[AGNES enters. She moves firmly but noiselessly--a placid woman, with
a sweet, low voice. Her dress is plain to the verge of coarseness; her
face, which has little colour, is, at the first glance almost wholly
unattractive.]

AGNES. [Looking from one to the other.] I thought you would send for
me, perhaps. [To SIR GEORGE.] What do you say about him?

KIRKE. One moment. [Pointing to the balcony.] Mrs. Thorpe--

AGNES. Excuse me. [She goes to the window and opens it.]

GERTRUDE. Oh, Mrs Cleeve! [Entering the room.] Am I in the way?

AGNES. You are never that, my dear. Run along to my room; I'll call you
in a minute or two. [GERTRUDE nods, and goes to the door.] Take off you
hat and sit with me for a while.

GERTRUDE. I'll stay for a bit, but this hat doesn't take off. [She goes
out]

AGNES. [To SIR GEORGE and KIRKE.] Yes?

SIR GEORGE. We are glad to be able to give a most favourable report. I
may say that Mr Cleeve has never appeared to be in better health.

AGNES. [Drawing a deep breath.] He will be very much cheered by what
you say.

SIR GEORGE. [Bowing stiffly.] I'm glad--

AGNES. His illness left him with a morbid, irrational impression that
he would never be his former self again.

SIR GEORGE. A nervous man recovering from a scare. I've helped remove
that impression I believe.

AGNES. Thank you. We have a troublesome, perhaps a hard time before us;
we both need all our health and spirits. [Turning her head, listening.]
Lucas?

[LUCAS enters the room. He is a handsome, intellectual-looking young
man of about eight-and-twenty.]

LUCAS. [To AGNES, excitedly.] Have you heard what they say of me?

AGNES. [Smiling.] Yes.

LUCAS. How good of you, Sir George, to break up your little holiday for
the sake of an anxious, fidgety fellow. [To Agnes.] Isn't it?

AGNES. Sir George has rendered us a great service.

LUCAS. [Going to KIRKE, brightly.] Yes, and proved how ungrateful I've
been to you, doctor.

KIRKE. Don't apologise. People who don't kno