inging----

(_Enter_ GRIGGS, R. _and moves to above Chesterfield. He coughs._)

What is it, Griggs?

GRIGGS. You rang, madam.

MRS. DERMOTT. Did I? Now what on earth could it have been? Was it a
flustered ring, Griggs, or just an ordinary calm one?

GRIGGS. Quite calm, madam.

MRS. DERMOTT (_in anguish_). Oh, Vangy _dear_, what _did_ I ring for?

EVANGELINE. You said something about your knitting just before.

MRS. DERMOTT. Oh, of course, yes. Griggs, do you know how many stitches
I cast on for this sleeve?

GRIGGS. Forty-seven, madam.

MRS. DERMOTT. Oh, thank you so much--you're quite sure?

GRIGGS. Quite, madam, but if I might suggest it, next time an even
number would be easier to remember.

MRS. DERMOTT. Yes, Griggs--remind me, won't you? You're a great help.

GRIGGS. Yes, madam.

MRS. DERMOTT. Thank you, Griggs.

(_Exit_ GRIGGS, R.)

Really, I don't know what I should do without that man. I believe he's
Scotch, but he's quite invaluable.

MRS. CROMBIE. So it seems.

EVANGELINE. Will Sylvia and Uncle Daniel be here in time for dinner,
mother?

MRS. DERMOTT. Yes, his train arrived at Euston at eleven-thirty. They
ought to be here quite soon now, unless, of course, anything has
happened to the car--but still, Sylvia drives very carefully. They
taught her to do lots of things like that on the films, you
know--they're awfully daring--I shall never forget when they made her
jump off Westminster Bridge on a horse--my sister Amy was scandalized,
and I said----

MRS. CROMBIE. I can _quite_ imagine it. It was very plucky of your
daughter to do it, though I'm glad Faith isn't on the films--I should be
worried to death.

MRS. DERMOTT. Of course I felt like that at first--but one gets hardened
to anything--even my poor brother's approaching death seems less
terrible now--at the time when he told us it was a fearful shock, but
somehow----

MRS. CROMBIE. It must be terribly sad for you. Faith told me about it
this morning. What is he suffering from?

MRS. DERMOTT. Well, to tell you the truth, we don't quite know, he will
joke about it so--at first he said it was "Sleeping Sickness" and then
"Creeping quickness" or pneu-somnia or something or other--one comfort,
he doesn't seem to mind a bit.

MRS. CROMBIE. Perhaps the doctor diagnosed the case all wrong.

MRS. DERMOTT. Oh yes, they are careless--aren't they? Did you say
"diagnosed," there now, that's the word you were trying to think of t