twenty years younger. And now I’ll have a cup of tea, and one of those nice cucumber sandwiches you promised me.

Algernon Certainly, Aunt Augusta. (Goes over to tea-table)

Lady Bracknell Won’t you come and sit here, Gwendolen?

Gwendolen Thanks, mamma, I’m quite comfortable where I am.°

Algernon (picking up empty plate in horror) Good heavens! Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially.

Lane (gravely) There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, sir. I went down twice.°

Algernon No cucumbers!

Lane No, sir. Not even for ready money.

Algernon That will do, Lane, thank you.

Lane Thank you, sir.

Goes out

Algernon I am greatly distressed, Aunt Augusta, about there being no cucumbers, not even for ready money.

Lady Bracknell It really makes no matter, Algernon. I had some crumpets with Lady Harbury, who seems to me to be living entirely for 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 tonight, 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 tonight 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 ailments goes. I should be much obliged if you would ask Mr Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse