expression. We see them soft for the first time.)

LADY MARY (contritely). Tweeny, I beg your pardon. If my whistling
annoys you, I shall try to cure myself of it. (Instead of calming
TWEENY, this floods her face in tears.) Why, how can that hurt you,
Tweeny dear?

TWEENY. Because I can't make you lose your temper.

LADY MARY (divinely). Indeed, I often do. Would that I were nicer to
everybody.

TWEENY. There you are again. (Wistfully.) What makes you want to be so
nice, Polly?

LADY MARY (with fervour). Only thankfulness, Tweeny. (She exults.) It is
such fun to be alive. (So also seem to think CATHERINE and AGATHA, who
bounce in with fishing-rods and creel. They, too, are in manly attire.)

CATHERINE. We've got some ripping fish for the Gov.'s dinner. Are we in
time? We ran all the way.

TWEENY (tartly). You'll please to cook them yourself, Kitty, and look
sharp about it. (She retires to her hearth, where AGATHA follows her.)

AGATHA (yearning). Has the Gov. decided who is to wait upon him to-day?

CATHERINE (who is cleaning her fish). It's my turn.

AGATHA (hotly). I don't see that.

TWEENY (with bitterness). It's to be neither of you, Aggy; he wants
Polly again.

(LADY MARY is unable to resist a joyous whistle.)

AGATHA (jealously). Polly, you toad. (But they cannot make LADY MARY
angry.)

TWEENY (storming). How dare you look so happy?

LADY MARY (willing to embrace her). I wish, Tweeny, there was anything I
could do to make you happy also.

TWEENY. Me! Oh, I'm happy. (She remembers ERNEST, whom it is easy to
forget on an island.) I've just had a proposal, I tell you.

(LADY MARY is shaken at last, and her sisters with her.)

AGATHA. A proposal?

CATHERINE (going white). Not--not--(She dare not say his name.)

ERNEST (with singular modesty). You needn't be alarmed; it's only me.

LADY MARY (relieved). Oh, you!

AGATHA (happy again). Ernest, you dear, I got such a shock.

CATHERINE. It was only Ernest. (Showing him her fish in thankfulness.)
They are beautifully fresh; come and help me to cook them.

ERNEST (with simple dignity). Do you mind if I don't cook fish to-night?
(She does not mind in the least. They have all forgotten him. A lark is
singing in three hearts.) I think you might all be a little sorry for
a chap. (But they are not even sorry, and he addresses AGATHA in these
winged words:) I'm particularly disappointed in you, Aggy; seeing that I
was half engaged to you, I think you