idged
over.

[EGIDIA joins the others.]

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

Mother, my life is wasted.

[VALENTINE, roughly dressed in cords and gaiters, enters, followed by
BROOKE.]

VALENTINE WHITE.

Are you ready, Lord Drumdurris?

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

We are waiting, I presume, for Mr. Lebanon.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

I'll go and stir him up. Ugh! What!

[BROOKE goes out.]

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

You'll not join us, Sir Julian?

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

I daren't. Melton has arrived from town with a mass of papers for my
signature. [Quietly to DRUMDURRIS.] The Rajputana Canal Question is
wearing me out.

VALENTINE WHITE.

[Whispering to IMOGEN.] I have your note. I'll return in a few minutes.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

[Outside.] Shootin', my dear sir! When I was in the South 'Ampstead
Artillery I could have shown you what shootin' was.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

There's Jo. [She goes out to meet LEBANON.]

ALL.

[With various expressions of disgust.] Ugh! that man!

[All gather into groups, as LEBANON, looking very ridiculous in Highland
costume, enters, followed by BROOKE.]

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

[Slapping MACPHAIL on the back.] Mac, dear old boy, 'aven't seen you
this morning. [MACPHAIL turns away distrustfully.] Lady Mac, I 'ear
delightful whispers.

LADY MACPHAIL.

Sir?

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

An approachin' 'appy event. We're like the doves--we're pairin' off,
hey; we're pairin' off? [LADY MACPHAIL stares at him and turns away. He
wipes his forehead anxiously.] It's a little difficult to keep up a long
conversation with 'em. They're not what I should term Rattlers. [Eyeing
EGIDIA.] The fair 'ostess. Ahem! We missed you at the breakfast-table,
Lady Drum. Can't congratulate you on your peck--excuse my humour.

[EGIDIA stares at him and joins LADY MACPHAIL.] [To himself.] They're a
chatty lot; I must say they're a chatty lot. I wish Fanny would stick by
me and cut in occasionally. There's Lady T. _She_ can't ride the 'igh
'orse, at any rate. Lady T.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Mr. Lebanon?

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

You didn't honour me with my game of crib last night.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

I--I had a headache.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

Never 'ad a 'eadache in my life--don't know 'ow it's spelt.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

It's spelt with an H.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

[To LADY EUPHEMIA, offering her flowers from his coat.] Lady Effie, my
floral offering.

[LADY EUPHEMIA catches up her skirts and sweeps past him.]

[To him