WOMBLEY.

That woman!

IMOGEN.

That woman!

[MACPHAIL enters with MRS. GAYLUSTRE, he in Highland dress, she wearing
a showy costume of tweed tartan with a Scotch bonnet.]

LADY MACPHAIL.

Colin, lad!

MACPHAIL.

Eh, mother?

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Dear Sir Colin gave me his arm to the top of Ben-Auchter.

DOWAGER and LADY MACPHAIL.

To the top of Ben-Auchter!

MACPHAIL.

[With an anxious glance at MRS. GAYLUSTRE.] Just to see the sun rise.

DOWAGER.

[Quietly to SIR JULIAN.] Julian, that's scandalous!

LADY MACPHAIL.

I thought you always witnessed the sun rise alone, Colin.

MACPHAIL.

As a rule, mother.

DOWAGER.

[To herself.] That woman has a motive.

LADY MACPHAIL.

[Pointing to IMOGEN.] My son, look--here is Imogen.

MACPHAIL.

[To IMOGEN.] Good-morning.

LADY MACPHAIL.

Colin, lad, don't you guess?

MACPHAIL.

No, mother.

LADY MACPHAIL.

[Rapturously.] Now let the worn banner of the Macphail be run up on the
crumbling tower of Castle Ballocheevin!

MACPHAIL.

[Vacantly.] For what reason, mother?

LADY MACPHAIL.

Now let the shriek of the wild birds sound on the shores of
Loch-na-Doich!

MACPHAIL.

Why?

LADY MACPHAIL.

[Embracing MACPHAIL.] Imogen is to be your bride.

MACPHAIL.

[Blankly.] Oh!

[SIR JULIAN, the DOWAGER, and LADY EUPHEMIA congratulate him.]

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Most gratified!

DOWAGER.

I have a mother's yearnings toward you.

LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.

We are _too_ rejoiced!

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[To herself.] They've hooked him!

LADY MACPHAIL.

[Bringing MACPHAIL down.] Hush! Speak to her, Colin, lad. Let her hear
how a Macphail greets the woman of his choice.

[LADY MACPHAIL joins SIR JULIAN, the DOWAGER, and LADY EUPHEMIA, while
they all watch MACPHAIL as he approaches IMOGEN.]

LADY MACPHAIL.

Listen!

MACPHAIL.

[To IMOGEN.] Er--I'm very much obliged to ye.

LADY MACPHAIL.

Bravely spoken!

DOWAGER.

A grand nature!

IMOGEN.

Thank you, Sir Colin. [She joins the others.]

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[To MACPHAIL, seizing his hand.] May your life be very, very blissful!

MACPHAIL.

[Uneasily, withdrawing his hand.] Mother's looking. [He joins the rest.]

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[To herself.] They've hooked my Scotch salmon; but they haven't landed
him yet! [Intercepting LADY TWOMBLEY as she advances towards the group.]
Kate!

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Reptile!

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

I'm not at all satisfied with the