e been terrible if any cloud had come across
a friendship like ours, would it not? Of course you are quite, quite
sure that it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is your guardian?

Cecily. Quite sure. [A pause.] In fact, I am going to be his.

Gwendolen. [Inquiringly.] I beg your pardon?

Cecily. [Rather shy and confidingly.] Dearest Gwendolen, there is no
reason why I should make a secret of it to you. Our little county
newspaper is sure to chronicle the fact next week. Mr. Ernest Worthing
and I are engaged to be married.

Gwendolen. [Quite politely, rising.] My darling Cecily, I think there
must be some slight error. Mr. Ernest Worthing is engaged to me. The
announcement will appear in the _Morning Post_ on Saturday at the latest.

Cecily. [Very politely, rising.] I am afraid you must be under some
misconception. Ernest proposed to me exactly ten minutes ago. [Shows
diary.]

Gwendolen. [Examines diary through her lorgnettte carefully.] It is
certainly very curious, for he asked me to be his wife yesterday
afternoon at 5.30. If you would care to verify the incident, pray do so.
[Produces diary of her own.] I never travel without my diary. One
should always have something sensational to read in the train. I am so
sorry, dear Cecily, if it is any disappointment to you, but I am afraid I
have the prior claim.

Cecily. It would distress me more than I can tell you, dear Gwendolen,
if it caused you any mental or physical anguish, but I feel bound to
point out that since Ernest proposed to you he clearly has changed his
mind.

Gwendolen. [Meditatively.] If the poor fellow has been entrapped into
any foolish promise I shall consider it my duty to rescue him at once,
and with a firm hand.

Cecily. [Thoughtfully and sadly.] Whatever unfortunate entanglement my
dear boy may have got into, I will never reproach him with it after we
are married.

Gwendolen. Do you allude to me, Miss Cardew, as an entanglement? You
are presumptuous. On an occasion of this kind it becomes more than a
moral duty to speak one's mind. It becomes a pleasure.

Cecily. Do you suggest, Miss Fairfax, that I entrapped Ernest into an
engagement? How dare you? This is no time for wearing the shallow mask
of manners. When I see a spade I call it a spade.

Gwendolen. [Satirically.] I am glad to say that I have never seen a
spade. It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different.

[Enter Merriman