ng at
in secret.

Mrs. Tremaine.

No. It might have come to nothing. I am to sing three songs at a
private concert.

Denham.

A good house?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Capital--and good people to hear me. I may choose my own songs,
Italian, German, or English. I have a fortnight to prepare, and I am
to be _paid_!

Denham.

Brava!

Mrs. Denham.

You are not going just yet?

Mrs. Tremaine.

No, not immediately. (_Crosses to "throne" and sits again. Denham
follows her._)

Mrs. Denham.

We shall meet again then. Good-bye!

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_as Denham arranges her skirt_) _A bientot!_

(_Exit Mrs. Denham. Denham begins to paint._)

Denham.

Well, you mysterious creature, I think you have chosen your
profession well. Your voice is lovely, and your style--well, not bad
in these days of execrable singing.

Mrs. Tremaine.

Do you know, it was your praise that made me think seriously of
this?

Denham.

(_absorbed in painting_) Really? But why would you never sing to me
since that evening?

Mrs. Tremaine.

I have been working so hard; I wanted to surprise you.

Denham.

And now you will?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Perhaps--some time. (_A pause, Denham painting in silence._)

Denham.

Come down and look at this thing now. I can do no more to it.

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_comes over to the easel, Denham puts down brush and palette_) But
this is splendid!

Denham.

(_taking pipe_) Better, isn't it? (_Crosses L, to table,
and strikes a match._)

Mrs. Tremaine.

Oh _yes_! But how you _have_ flattered me! I shall be reduced to a
proper humility when I look in the glass. (_Turns and glances at
mirror, then again at picture._)

Denham.

Never mind the glass. That's how I see you.

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_crosses C and drops him a curtsey_) Thank you, sir. An
uncynical compliment at last!

Denham.

(_bowing_) 'Tis but your due, madam, I protest. Come, sit down, and
let us be lazy. (_Pushes armchair round for Mrs. Tremaine, takes
chair from "throne" and sits near her._) We have worked very hard.
Do you ever go to the theatre?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Sometimes.

Denham.

Does it amuse you?

Mrs. Tremaine.

Oh yes! I like a good three act farce.

Denham.

So do I. But our serious plays are amusing in a deeper way--now that
we have begun timidly to scratch the surface of things. I wonder, if
you and I were put on the stage, what they would say of us?

Mrs. Tremaine.

But there is nothing to make a