pleasure now.

Algernon. I hear her hair has turned quite gold from grief.

Lady Bracknell. It certainly has changed its colour. From what cause I,
of course, cannot say. [Algernon crosses and hands tea.] Thank you.
I've quite a treat for you to-night, Algernon. I am going to send you
down with Mary Farquhar. She is such a nice woman, and so attentive to
her husband. It's delightful to watch them.

Algernon. I am afraid, Aunt Augusta, I shall have to give up the
pleasure of dining with you to-night after all.

Lady Bracknell. [Frowning.] I hope not, Algernon. It would put my
table completely out. Your uncle would have to dine upstairs.
Fortunately he is accustomed to that.

Algernon. It is a great bore, and, I need hardly say, a terrible
disappointment to me, but the fact is I have just had a telegram to say
that my poor friend Bunbury is very ill again. [Exchanges glances with
Jack.] They seem to think I should be with him.

Lady Bracknell. It is very strange. This Mr. Bunbury seems to suffer
from curiously bad health.

Algernon. Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid.

Lady Bracknell. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time
that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die.
This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way
approve of the modern sympathy with invalids. I consider it morbid.
Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health
is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor
uncle, but he never seems to take much notice . . . as far as any
improvement in his ailment goes. I should be much obliged if you would
ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse on
Saturday, for I rely on you to arrange my music for me. It is my last
reception, and one wants something that will encourage conversation,
particularly at the end of the season when every one has practically said
whatever they had to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much.

Algernon. I'll speak to Bunbury, Aunt Augusta, if he is still conscious,
and I think I can promise you he'll be all right by Saturday. Of course
the music is a great difficulty. You see, if one plays good music,
people don't listen, and if one plays bad music people don't talk. But
I'll run over the programme I've drawn out, if you will kindly come into
the next room for a moment.

Lady Bracknell. Thank you, Alg