SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Be quiet! Lady Twombley is ill!

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Ill! Look at Joseph! My only brother!

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Keith, explain this telegram or my brain will give way.

DOWAGER.

No, no--tell me. My brain is stronger than Sir Julian's.

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

[To SIR JULIAN and the DOWAGER apart.] Mother--Sir Julian----

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

I want a word or two with my friend, Lady T.

[MRS. GAYLUSTRE arranges his chair so that he faces LADY TWOMBLEY. She
and LEBANON stare at each other.]

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

Oh!

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Ah!

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

Lady T.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Hullo?

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

I've 'ad a wire.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

So have I.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

From Moss & Emanuel, my brokers.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Mine is from Reeves & Shuckleback.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

Oh, I see--_your_ brokers. You've done me, Lady T.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Don't mention it.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

You're a knowing one.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

I'm sure I'm very gratified to hear you say so.

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

The Bills! Give me the Bills you swindled me out of!

[He advances violently, but MRS. GAYLUSTRE holds him back. LADY TWOMBLEY
hands the Bills to SIR JULIAN.]

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Jo!

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Mr. Lebanon, the Bills, sir. [Giving them.]

[LEBANON snaps his fingers demonstratively in SIR JULIAN'S face.]

MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.

Drum., thank you for your _recherche_ hospitality. Carriage to the
station in the morning, if you please. [Kissing his hands.] Ladies----
[Breaking down.] Oh, Fanny, take me to bed!

[He goes out. MRS. GAYLUSTRE is about to follow, when LADY MACPHAIL
enters with MACPHAIL.]

LADY MACPHAIL.

Madam! My boy--my poor lad--has told me of your behaviour.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

My behaviour! He loves me!

LADY MACPHAIL.

Colin!

MACPHAIL.

I thought I'd just better mention the affair to mother.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Of course; conceal nothing from your parent.

MACPHAIL.

And mother agrees with me----

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Yes?

MACPHAIL.

That it would be just a risky matter to correspond with a widow lady.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Oh!

MACPHAIL.

[Producing MRS. GAYLUSTRE's card from his stocking.] So I'm thinking I
sha'n't require this address.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Ah! [She slaps his face violently and runs out.]

EVERYBODY.

Oh!

MACPHAIL.

Mother!

[LADY MACPHAIL embraces him. The music of t