Lord Goring (considerably perplexed) In a moment, father. Do excuse me. (Lord Caversham goes back) Well, remember my instructions, Phipps—into that room.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring goes into the smoking-room. Harold, the footman, shows Mrs Cheveley in. Lamia-like,° she is in green and silver. She has a cloak of black satin, lined with dead rose-leaf silk

Harold What name, madam?

Mrs Cheveley (to Phipps, who advances towards her) Is Lord Goring not here? I was told he was at home?

Phipps His lordship is engaged at present with Lord Caversham, madam.

Turns a cold, glassy eye on Harold, who at once retires

Mrs Cheveley (to herself) How very filial!

Phipps His lordship told me to ask you, madam, to be kind enough to wait in the drawing-room for him. His lordship will come to you there.

Mrs Cheveley (with a look of surprise) Lord Goring expects me?

Phipps Yes, madam.

Mrs Cheveley Are you quite sure?

Phipps His lordship told me that if a lady called I was to ask her to wait in the drawing-room.° (Goes to the door of the drawing-room and open it) His lordship’s directions on the subject were very precise.

Mrs Cheveley (to herself) How thoughtful of him! To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. (Goes towards the drawing-room and looks in) Ugh! How dreary a bachelor’s drawing-room always looks. I shall have to alter all this.° (Phipps brings the lamp from the writing-table) No, I don’t care for that lamp. It is far too glaring. Light some candles.

Phipps (replaces lamp) Certainly, madam.

Mrs Cheveley I hope the candles have very becoming shades.

Phipps We have had no complaints about them, madam, as yet.

Passes into the drawing-room and begins to light the candles.

Mrs Cheveley (to herself) I wonder what woman he is waiting for tonight. It will be delightful to catch him. Men always look so silly when they are caught. And they are always being caught. (looks about room and approaches the writing-table) What a very interesting room! What a very interesting picture! Wonder what his correspondence is like. (Takes up letters) Oh, what a very uninteresting correspondence! Bills and cards, debts and dowagers! Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink paper! It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance. Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with science and end with a settlement.° (Puts letter down, then takes it up again) I know that handwriting.° That is Gertrude Chiltern’s. I remember it perfectly. The ten commandments in every stroke of the pen, and the moral law all over the page. Wonder what Gertrude is writing to him about? Something horrid about me, I suppose. How I detest that woman! (Reads it) ‘I trust you. I want you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’ ‘I trust you. I want you. I am coming to you.’