mfortably in "open sin,"
until the kingdom of heaven comes.

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_laughing_) No, I fear there are still difficulties. But, after
all, one can do--well, almost anything; if one does it from
conscientious motives--and knows one's way about.

Denham.

Yes. And how charming the relationship might be made! Women would
really study the art of keeping a lover. But what, in Heaven's name,
is the sympathetic modern man to do, who feels that to love one of
these creatures of a finer clay, in his rough masculine fashion, is
to "insult," or "enslave," or injure her, in one way or another? "I
love you, therefore God forbid I should marry you!"--that is the
newest gospel.

Mrs. Tremaine.

We are not all such miserable creatures as you imagine. Treat us
decently well, and we can stand a good deal, without whining like
men--poor persecuted saints!

Denham.

It is quite impossible to treat you well in this "imperfect
dispensation." Bah! let us talk of something else.

(_Enter Mrs. Denham, dressed to go out._)

Mrs. Denham.

This letter has come for you, Blanche, sent on from your house.

Mrs. Tremaine.

Thanks so much. I have been expecting it. Will you excuse me?
(_Opens letter and reads._)

Mrs. Denham.

I am sorry to interrupt you, Arthur, but I am just going out. Can
you give me a cheque?

Denham.

Certainly. But first look at this.

Mrs. Denham.

(_looks at the picture_) Better, I think.

Denham.

Eyes too big now?

Mrs. Denham.

No, not now. Let me have the cheque, and I will go.

(_Denham crosses in front of easel to table, takes cheque book from
a drawer in the table, and writes. Mrs. Tremaine rises and crosses
C._)

Denham.

Is that all you have to say?

Mrs. Denham.

Oh, my opinion is of no value! I think you have improved; but, you
know, I like your ideal work best.

Denham.

This is miles ahead of anything I have done.

Mrs. Denham.

Perhaps--as a piece of painting.

Denham.

I am finding my way at last. Here is the cheque.

Mrs. Denham.

(_crosses L, takes cheque, and crosses C_) You
will stay to dinner, Blanche, of course?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Thanks very much, but I can't possibly.

Denham.

I am so sorry, but why?

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_waving the letter, crosses in front of easel, and goes down
R_) Work, work! I have got an engagement.

Mrs. Denham.

I congratulate you.

Denham.

But what is it? You have never told us what you have been worki