RCHMONT. That is exactly what we can't stand. My Reginald is
quite hopelessly faultless. He is really unendurably so, at times!
There is not the smallest element of excitement in knowing him.

LORD GORING. How terrible! Really, the thing should be more widely
known!

LADY BASILDON. Basildon is quite as bad; he is as domestic as if he was
a bachelor.

MRS. MARCHMONT. [_Pressing_ LADY BASILDON'S _hand_.] My poor Olivia!
We have married perfect husbands, and we are well punished for it.

LORD GORING. I should have thought it was the husbands who were
punished.

MRS. MARCHMONT. [_Drawing herself up_.] Oh, dear no! They are as happy
as possible! And as for trusting us, it is tragic how much they trust
us.

LADY BASILDON. Perfectly tragic!

LORD GORING. Or comic, Lady Basildon?

LADY BASILDON. Certainly not comic, Lord Goring. How unkind of you to
suggest such a thing!

MRS. MARCHMONT. I am afraid Lord Goring is in the camp of the enemy, as
usual. I saw him talking to that Mrs. Cheveley when he came in.

LORD GORING. Handsome woman, Mrs. Cheveley!

LADY BASILDON. [_Stiffly_.] Please don't praise other women in our
presence. You might wait for us to do that!

LORD GORING. I did wait.

MRS. MARCHMONT. Well, we are not going to praise her. I hear she went
to the Opera on Monday night, and told Tommy Rufford at supper that, as
far as she could see, London Society was entirely made up of dowdies and
dandies.

LORD GORING. She is quite right, too. The men are all dowdies and the
women are all dandies, aren't they?

MRS. MARCHMONT. [_After a pause_.] Oh! do you really think that is what
Mrs. Cheveley meant?

LORD GORING. Of course. And a very sensible remark for Mrs. Cheveley to
make, too.

[_Enter_ MABEL CHILTERN. _She joins the group_.]

MABEL CHILTERN. Why are you talking about Mrs. Cheveley? Everybody is
talking about Mrs. Cheveley! Lord Goring says--what did you say, Lord
Goring, about Mrs. Cheveley? Oh! I remember, that she was a genius in
the daytime and a beauty at night.

LADY BASILDON. What a horrid combination! So very unnatural!

MRS. MARCHMONT. [_In her most dreamy manner_.] I like looking at
geniuses, and listening to beautiful people.

LORD GORING. Ah! that is morbid of you, Mrs. Marchmont!

MRS. MARCHMONT. [_Brightening to a look of real pleasure_.] I am so
glad to hear you say that. Marchmont and I have been married for seven
years, and he ha