mart dressing-jacket; the_ DUCHESS _is still fully
dressed._ SOPHY, _who has assumed an apron, is engaged in bringing
hair-brushes and some toilet bottles from the bedroom and in arranging
them upon the dressing-table. Her eyes are constantly upon the_ DUCHESS.

MRS. EDEN.

These are awfully pleasant cigarettes. I didn't know you--

DUCHESS.

[_Plaintively._] My doctor insists--for my nerves.

MRS. EDEN.

[_Blowing rings._] I love smoking. Such a bore, because women are rather
dropping it. [_Examining her cigarette._] What _are_ these?

DUCHESS

I forget.

MRS. EDEN.

I see--Argyropulos.

[_There is a knock at the door._ SOPHY _goes to the door and opens it
slightly; a note is handed to her._

SOPHY.

[_Looking at the note._] Oh, thanks. [_Closing the door._] I beg your
pardon, your Grace--it's for me.

[_She returns to the dressing-table, reading the note._

MRS. EDEN.

[_Jestingly._] Ah, Sophy! you must encourage no more sweethearts now,
remember.

SOPHY.

This is from _him_, Mrs. Eden--from Mr. Valma, saying good-night. He's
gone to bed.

MRS. EDEN.

Good gracious! how do _you_ know?

SOPHY.

Mrs. Gregory, the housekeeper, has allowed him to sleep here to-night,
so that we may go back together in the morning.

MRS. EDEN.

Ah, yes.

DUCHESS.

[_Taking off her bracelets._] My jewel-case, Sophy.

[SOPHY _puts the note to her lips, slips it into the bodice of her
dress, and re-enters the bedroom._

MRS. EDEN.

[_To the_ DUCHESS.] By-the-by, what _did_ Valma see in your hand,
Duchess, after dinner? Why wouldn't you tell us?

DUCHESS.

I was too vexed at the moment. [_With downcast eyes._] He professed to
discover that a number of men are in love with me.

MRS. EDEN.

Yes, but what made you angry?

DUCHESS.

Why, _that_.

MRS. EDEN.

That!

DUCHESS.

They were shocking words to listen to, even when spoken by a mere
fortune-teller. And you--why did _you_ not confide to us the result of
Mr. Valma's reading of your palm?

[SOPHY _comes from the bedroom carrying a jewel-case, which she deposits
upon the dressing-table._

MRS. EDEN.

I was in a rage too. Ha! there's only _one_ man in love with _me_, it
appears.

DUCHESS.

[_With a shudder._] One is sufficiently dreadful.

MRS. EDEN.

Horrid! [_Making a_ moue.] It's Jack--my husband!

DUCHESS.

[_Reprovingly._] Hush, dear Mrs. Eden! Sophy--[SOPHY _comes to the_
DUCHESS. _Languidly._] I shall read for hal