, Miss Wrath, believe me, we all feel that--it is the
greatest possible pleasure to me that you have come.

GERALD. I wasn't ironical, I assure you.

MR. BARLOW. No, indeed--no, indeed! We have every belief in you.

ANABEL. But why should you have?

MR. BARLOW. Ah, my dear child, allow us the credit of our own
discernment. And don't take offence at my familiarity. I am afraid I am
spoilt since I am an invalid.

(Re-enter WINIFRED, with EVA.)

MR. BARLOW. Come, Eva, you will excuse us for upsetting your evening.
Will you be so good as to play something for us to dance to?

EVA. Yes, sir. What shall I play?

WINIFRED. Mozart--I'll find you the piece. Mozart's the saddest musician
in the world--but he's the best to dance to.

MR. BARLOW. Why, how is it you are such a connoisseur in sadness,
darling?

GERALD. She isn't. She's a flagrant amateur.

(EVA plays; they dance a little ballet.)

MR. BARLOW. Charming--charming, Miss Wrath:--will you allow me to
say _Anabel_, we shall all feel so much more at home? Yes--thank
you--er--you enter into the spirit of it wonderfully, Anabel, dear. The
others are accustomed to play together. But it is not so easy to come in
on occasion as you do.

GERALD. Oh, Anabel's a genius!--I beg your pardon, Miss
Wrath--familiarity is catching.

MR. BARLOW. Gerald, my boy, don't forget that you are virtually host
here.

EVA. Did you want any more music, sir?

GERALD. No, don't stay, Eva. We mustn't tire father. (Exit EVA.)

MR. BARLOW. I am afraid, Anabel, you will have a great deal to excuse
in us, in the way of manners. We have never been a formal household. But
you have lived in the world of artists: you will understand, I hope.

ANABEL. Oh, surely---

MR. BARLOW. Yes, I know. We have been a turbulent family, and we have
had our share of sorrow, even more, perhaps, than of joys. And sorrow
makes one indifferent to the conventionalities of life.

GERALD. Excuse me, father: do you mind if I go and write a letter I have
on my conscience?

MR. BARLOW. No, my boy. (Exit GERALD.) We have had our share of sorrow
and of conflict, Miss Wrath, as you may have gathered.

ANABEL. Yes--a little.

MR. BARLOW. The mines were opened when my father was a boy--the
first--and I was born late, when he was nearly fifty. So that all my
life has been involved with coal and colliers. As a young man, I was
gay and thoughtless. But I married young, and we lost our first child
through