ing her [he walks firmly away to the other side of the
room].

LADY UTTERWORD. Ingratiating myself indeed! [With dignity]. Very
well, papa. [She sits down at the drawing-table and pours out tea for
herself].

THE CAPTAIN. I am neglecting my social duties. You remember Dunn? Billy
Dunn?

LADY UTTERWORD. DO you mean that villainous sailor who robbed you?

THE CAPTAIN [introducing Ellie]. His daughter. [He sits down on the
sofa].

ELLIE [protesting]. No--

Nurse Guinness returns with fresh tea.

THE CAPTAIN. Take that hogwash away. Do you hear?

NURSE. You've actually remembered about the tea! [To Ellie]. Oh, miss,
he didn't forget you after all! You HAVE made an impression.

THE CAPTAIN [gloomily]. Youth! beauty! novelty! They are badly wanted in
this house. I am excessively old. Hesione is only moderately young. Her
children are not youthful.

LADY UTTERWORD. How can children be expected to be youthful in this
house? Almost before we could speak we were filled with notions that
might have been all very well for pagan philosophers of fifty, but were
certainly quite unfit for respectable people of any age.

NURSE. You were always for respectability, Miss Addy.

LADY UTTERWORD. Nurse, will you please remember that I am Lady
Utterword, and not Miss Addy, nor lovey, nor darling, nor doty? Do you
hear?

NURSE. Yes, ducky: all right. I'll tell them all they must call you My
Lady. [She takes her tray out with undisturbed placidity].

LADY UTTERWORD. What comfort? what sense is there in having servants
with no manners?

ELLIE [rising and coming to the table to put down her empty cup]. Lady
Utterword, do you think Mrs Hushabye really expects me?

LADY UTTERWORD. Oh, don't ask me. You can see for yourself that I've
just arrived; her only sister, after twenty-three years' absence! and it
seems that I am not expected.

THE CAPTAIN. What does it matter whether the young lady is expected or
not? She is welcome. There are beds: there is food. I'll find a room for
her myself [he makes for the door].

ELLIE [following him to stop him]. Oh, please--[He goes out]. Lady
Utterword, I don't know what to do. Your father persists in believing
that my father is some sailor who robbed him.

LADY UTTERWORD. You had better pretend not to notice it. My father is a
very clever man; but he always forgot things; and now that he is old, of
course he is worse. And I must warn you that it is sometimes very hard
to feel quite sure