at poor Mrs. Gaylustre is forced to follow the
modern fashion of increasing her income by devices formerly practised
only by the lower middle-classes.

DOWAGER.

She sticks pins in her bosom as though she relished it.

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

But, after all, Dora, Madame Mauricette, of Plunkett Street, and Mrs.
Gaylustre, widow of Lord Bulpitt's son, are two very distinct persons.
Excuse me. [He continues studying his speech.]

DOWAGER.

But what was she _before_ her marriage?

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

You must really give me notice of that question--I beg your pardon--I
don't know.

DOWAGER.

This lady now walks into your house as if it were her own!

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Ah!

DOWAGER.

Your wife is positively canvassing for invitations for her! Julian!

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

I shall be unprepared with my speech!

DOWAGER.

My family comes before everything!

[PROBYN enters.]

PROBYN.

Lord and Lady Drumdurris are inquiring for you, my lady.

DOWAGER.

Beg them to come here. [PROBYN retires.]

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Ah, then, if you'll allow me----

DOWAGER.

No, Julian. This is another family matter of terrible importance.

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

My dear Dora!

DOWAGER.

Keith and Egidia approach you at this early hour at my instigation. I
have a painful motive.

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

Oh, dear me!

[EGIDIA enters, dressed in fashionable walking costume, her face pale
and troubled.]

EGIDIA.

[Sadly.] Sir Julian.

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

My dear Egidia, there is nothing amiss, I hope?

EGIDIA.

Ah! Everything is amiss, Sir Julian.

DOWAGER.

Julian, the relations between my son and his wife have become terribly
strained.

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

No, no!

EGIDIA.

Indeed, yes!

DOWAGER.

I have done all in my power to relieve the horrible tension--if
anything, I have made matters worse. My hope is now centred in you. Here
is Keith.

EGIDIA.

Ah!

[EGIDIA sits upon a settee staring before her. DRUMDURRIS enters,
looking much worried.]

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

Ah, mother. [Grasping SIR JULIAN's hand with feeling.] Sir Julian.

[He and his wife look severely at one another and draw themselves up.]

SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.

My dear Keith, what can I do for you?

EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.

Ha! Explain, mother.

DOWAGER.

Julian, my son and his wife have cordially agreed to refer their grave
differences to your judgment.

EGIDIA.

Without binding our