n't _scatter_-brained.

MRS. CROMBIE. The whole family is scatter-brained, and I expect the
uncle's the worst of the lot--he wouldn't have been sent to South
America otherwise.

FAITH. He wasn't _sent_, he went.

MRS. CROMBIE. How do you know? He probably did something disgraceful in
his youth and had to leave the country. Just like my brother, your Uncle
Percy. I'm certain there's a skeleton of some kind in this
family--anyhow he's sure not to die when we want him to.

FAITH. The doctor said three years.

MRS. CROMBIE. Only to frighten him, that's what doctors are for. I
believe they cured hundreds of cases in the army like that.

FAITH. Did they, mother.

MRS. CROMBIE. What's the matter with the man?

FAITH. I don't know.

MRS. CROMBIE. It strikes me, dear, that you had better find out a bit
more before you get engaged another time.

FAITH (_tearfully_). But I don't want to be engaged another time. I want
to be engaged this time. Oh, mother darling, won't you wait a little
while? Just _see_ the uncle. If you got him alone for a while you could
find out anything--you're always so clever at that sort of thing. Oh,
mother, do.

MRS. CROMBIE. I'll interview the man on one condition. That is that
whatever decision I may make you promise to abide by it afterwards.

FAITH (_rises_). Yes, mother, I promise. (_Kisses her, remains below
fireplace._)

MRS. CROMBIE. Now I suppose we had better join the rest, they're being
feverishly bright on the tennis lawn.

(_Enter_ MRS. DERMOTT _followed by_ EVANGELINE. MRS. DERMOTT
_motions to_ EVANGELINE _to pick up papers, who does so, placing
them on table._)

MRS. DERMOTT. Ah, there you are, Mrs. Crombie; you were bored with
watching tennis too. Of course Oliver and Joyce's efforts cannot really
be called tennis, but still it's an amusement for them. (_Sits in
armchair._) Have you seen my knitting anywhere, Vangy darling? I'm
certain I left it here.

(FAITH _sits on form_ R.)

EVANGELINE. You had it in the drawing-room before lunch. I'll go and
look.

(_Exit_ EVANGELINE R.)

MRS. DERMOTT. Thank you so much, dear. You know, Mrs. Crombie, I
imagined that all authors became terribly superior after a little time,
but Vangy hasn't a bit--it is such a relief to me.

MRS. CROMBIE. I haven't read her book yet; I must really order it from
Boots.

MRS. DERMOTT. Oh, you belong to Boots too, I did for years--there's
something so fascinating in having