at Drumdurris Castle, Perthshire, leading on
one side to the outer hall, and on the other to the picture gallery. It
is solidly and comfortably furnished, and a fire is burning in the grate
of the large oaken fireplace. It is an afternoon in August.

IMOGEN is sitting at the table reading over a letter she has written.

IMOGEN.

"Dear Mr. White." I shall never call him Valentine again, except in my
thoughts. [Reading.] "Dear Mr. White, I am sorry to hear that you are
discontented with your recent appointment to the
Deputy-Assistant-Head-Gamekeepership on the Drumdurris estate, and that
you consider it a sinecure fit only for a debilitated peer." Now for it.
[Resuming.] "Permit me to take this opportunity of informing you that I
have at length consented to an engagement between myself and Sir Colin
Macphail of Ballocheevin." Oh, how awful it looks in ink! [Resuming.]
"As it is becoming that I should support such a position with dignity I
would prefer not encountering your dislike to 'stuck-up people' by ever
seeing you again." Oh, Val. "I therefore suggest that you obtain a
nastier appointment than that of Deputy-Assistant-Head-Gamekeeper at
Drumdurris without delay." That will do--beautifully. [In tears.] Oh,
Val, why have you never spoken? I know you are poor, but I would have
gone away with you and lived cheerfully and economically in that rock if
you had but asked me. Why, why have you never asked me?

[She sits on a footstool looking into the fire. BROOKE, in shooting
dress, strolls in with LADY EUPHEMIA. They do not see IMOGEN.]

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

[Coolly.] Well, then, Effie, I suppose I may regard our engagement as a
fixture--what? I needn't say you'll find me an excellent husband.

LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.

Thanks, awfully. But perhaps you had better mention the subject to me
again at some other time.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Well, I shall be rather busy for the next week or two.

LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.

Oh, quite as you please. [Giving him her hand.] But you are really _too_
impetuous.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Not at all. [About to kiss her.] You'll permit me, naturally?

LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.

[Languidly turning her cheek toward him.] Of course. Be careful of my
hair--it will not be dressed again before lunch.

[He kisses her cheek cautiously. IMOGEN rises without seeing them.]

LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.

[To BROOKE.] Somebody.

[They stroll away in opposite directions.]

IMOGEN.

After all, as he