g----

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Yes?

MACPHAIL.

That you'd better let go my arm now.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Sir Colin!

MACPHAIL.

I've no personal objection, you understand; but mother's always looking
for me.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

How thoughtless I am! [He walks away.] Sir Colin!

MACPHAIL.

Aye?

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Your mother is driving you to contract this marriage with Miss Twombley.

MACPHAIL.

Well, mother's just making the arrangements.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Your great heart hasn't gone out to her! Unhappiness must ensue! Your
bright career will be dimmed!

MACPHAIL.

Will be _what?_

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Dimmed. What did you think I said? Oh, Sir Colin, don't carry this
unsuitable bride to Ballocheevin!

MACPHAIL.

Well, it's a serious step; but I've been thinking it would be another in
the house.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

You don't want another in the house. You need a strong, self-reliant
wife who will take you out of the house.

MACPHAIL.

Eh?

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

A woman, loving but firm, tender but enterprising, who will bear you
from your dilapidated home and plunge you into the vortex of some great
city. [Suddenly.] Have you ever been to Paris?

MACPHAIL.

No.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

I know every inch of it!

MACPHAIL.

Madam!

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Oh, what have I said! Sir Colin, you have guessed my secret!

[MACPHAIL produces his ball-programme from his stocking and refers to
it.]

MACPHAIL.

I'm engaged to Miss Kilbouie for this waltz, if you'll excuse me.

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[Holding out her hand to him.] Colin.

MACPHAIL.

I'm thinking mother will be wondering----

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[To herself.] Drat your moth---- [To MACPHAIL.] Never mind dear Lady
Macphail for a moment. Colin, since you have discovered my love for you
I will make no further reservation----

MACPHAIL.

But mother----

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[Under her breath.] Drat your---- [To MACPHAIL.] Colin, I will be to you
the wife you have described.

MACPHAIL.

I'm extremely obliged to ye--but----

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

Hush, bold boy! [She gives him a card.]

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

You know my cruel brother takes me back to town to-morrow. Here is my
address so that you may write to me constantly, devotedly.

MACPHAIL.

[Reading the card.] "Mauricette & Cie., Court Dressmakers----"

MRS. GAYLUSTRE.

[Snatching the card from him.] That's a wrong 'un--I mean, that's a
mistake. [Giving another.] There. Hide it