your eyes to the beauty of
the world. Come to me!

BELINDA (happily). O-oh! You've got such different ways of putting
things. How can I choose between you?

DEVENISH. Then you will marry one of us?

BELINDA. You know I really _oughtn't_ to.

BAXTER. I don't see why not.

BELINDA. Well, there's just a little difficulty in the way.

DEVENISH. What is it? I will remove it. For you I could remove
anything--yes, even Baxter. (He looks at BAXTER, who is sitting more
solidly than ever in his chair.)

BELINDA. And anyhow I should have to choose between you.

DEVENISH (in a whisper). Choose me.

BAXTER (stiffly). Mrs. Tremayne does not require any prompting. A fair
field and let the best man win.

DEVENISH (going across to and slapping the astonished BAXTER on the
back). Aye, let the best man win! Well spoken, Baxter. (To BELINDA) Send
us out into the world upon some knightly quest, lady, and let the victor
be rewarded.

BAXTER. I--er--ought to say that I should be unable to go very far. I
have an engagement to speak at Newcastle on the 21st.

DEVENISH. Baxter, I will take no unfair advantage of you. Let the beard
of the Lord Mayor of Newcastle be the talisman that my lady demands; I
am satisfied.

BAXTER. This sort of thing is entirely contrary to my usual mode of
life, but I will not be outfaced by a mere boy. (Slapping his bowler-hat
on the table) I am prepared.

DEVENISH. Speak, lady.

BELINDA (speaking in a deep, mysterious voice). Gentlemen, ye put wild
thoughts into my head. In sooth, I am minded to send ye forth upon a
quest that is passing strange. Know ye that there is a maid journeyed
hither, hight Robinson--whose--(in her natural voice) what's the old for
aunt?

BAXTER (hopefully). Mother's sister.

BELINDA. You know, I think I shall have to explain this in ordinary
language. You won't mind very much, will you, Mr. Devenish?

DEVENISH. It is the spirit of this which matters, not the language which
clothes it.

BELINDA. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. Well, now about Miss Robinson.
She's my niece and she's just come to stay with me, and--poor
girl--she's lost her father. Absolutely lost him. He disappeared ever
such a long time ago, and poor Miss Robinson--Delia--naturally wants to
find him. Poor girl! she can't think where he is.

DEVENISH (nobly). I will find him.

BELINDA. Oh, thank you, Mr. Devenish; Miss Robinson would be so much
obliged.

BAXTER. Yes--er--but what have we to go upon