l result of my loving you.

MRS. CHEVELEY. And you threw me over because you saw, or said you saw,
poor old Lord Mortlake trying to have a violent flirtation with me in the
conservatory at Tenby.

LORD GORING. I am under the impression that my lawyer settled that
matter with you on certain terms . . . dictated by yourself.

MRS. CHEVELEY. At that time I was poor; you were rich.

LORD GORING. Quite so. That is why you pretended to love me.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Shrugging her shoulders_.] Poor old Lord Mortlake, who
had only two topics of conversation, his gout and his wife! I never
could quite make out which of the two he was talking about. He used the
most horrible language about them both. Well, you were silly, Arthur.
Why, Lord Mortlake was never anything more to me than an amusement. One
of those utterly tedious amusements one only finds at an English country
house on an English country Sunday. I don't think any one at all morally
responsible for what he or she does at an English country house.

LORD GORING. Yes. I know lots of people think that.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I loved you, Arthur.

LORD GORING. My dear Mrs. Cheveley, you have always been far too clever
to know anything about love.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I did love you. And you loved me. You know you loved
me; and love is a very wonderful thing. I suppose that when a man has
once loved a woman, he will do anything for her, except continue to love
her? [_Puts her hand on his_.]

LORD GORING. [_Taking his hand away quietly_.] Yes: except that.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_After a pause_.] I am tired of living abroad. I want
to come back to London. I want to have a charming house here. I want to
have a salon. If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the
Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilised. Besides, I
have arrived at the romantic stage. When I saw you last night at the
Chilterns', I knew you were the only person I had ever cared for, if I
ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. And so, on the morning of the day
you marry me, I will give you Robert Chiltern's letter. That is my
offer. I will give it to you now, if you promise to marry me.

LORD GORING. Now?

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Smiling_.] To-morrow.

LORD GORING. Are you really serious?

MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes, quite serious.

LORD GORING. I should make you a very bad husband.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I don't mind bad husbands. I have had two. They amused
me immens