SOPHY.

[_Hanging her head._] You see, darling, yesterday at Fauncey Court, I--I
tried it on with Lord Quex, and he behaved like a gentleman. So the
notion struck me that I'd treat the young man in the same way, just to
see what _he_ was made of, and--well, I'm glad you came in. You might
never have believed me.

MURIEL.

[_In a hard voice._] The shirt-stud--the stuff I wrote--I left them with
you--

SOPHY.

[_Producing them._] I found them after you'd gone.

[MURIEL _takes the piece of paper and tears it into small pieces._ SOPHY
_offers her the jeweller's case._

MURIEL.

[_Haughtily._] Take that back to Gressier's this afternoon, please, and
tell them I've changed my mind. Say I'll have a little silver collar for
my dog, in its place.

[_She sinks into the screen-chair, with her eyes closed. Slipping the
case into her pocket,_ SOPHY _tip-toes up to the door in the partition;
she opens it and beckons to_ QUEX, _who appears with_ FRAYNE.

SOPHY.

[_To_ QUEX, _in a whisper._] Phsst! It's all nicely settled. She's said
good-bye to him for good. What a fuss you made about nothing!

[_She points to the screen-chair; he approaches_ MURIEL. SOPHY _and_
FRAYNE _talk together._

QUEX.

[_Softly._] Muriel--

MURIEL.

[_Opening her eyes, startled._] Quex!

QUEX.

[_Brightly._] I came up to town this morning with Sir Chichester. We've
just met aunt Julia, and the rest of 'em, in Sackville Street. Mrs.
Jack clamours for lunch at Prince's. What do you say?

MURIEL.

[_Passing her hand across her eyes._] Thanks. It'll be jolly.

QUEX.

[_Gaily._] Ah!

MURIEL.

[_Laying her hand upon his sleeve._] Quex--

QUEX.

Eh?

MURIEL.

[_Rising, and speaking in a low, appealing voice._] Give me your word
you have been loyal to me, down to your very thought, since our
engagement.

QUEX.

[_Earnestly._] Muriel, I--

MURIEL.

Hush! [_Giving him her hand._] I believe you. [_The door-gong sounds._]
And, look here! I haven't been quite fair, or generous, to you, I am
afraid. But I am going to be different--

QUEX.

After to-day!

MURIEL.

From this moment. Harry--

QUEX.

Hey?

MURIEL.

I won't keep you till the end of the year. Marry me, and have done with
it, directly the Season is over, and take me away.

QUEX.

[_Bending over her hand._] Good heavens--! [MISS LIMBIRD _holds the_
portiere _aside and admits_ LADY OWBRIDGE, _the_ DUCHESS OF STROOD,
_and_ MRS. EDEN. MISS LIMBIRD