ashionable women who are all in love
with him. But he ran away from them to see me at the National Gallery
and persuade me to come with him for a drive round Richmond Park in a
taxi.

MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, you have been going it. It's wonderful what
you good girls can do without anyone saying a word.

ELLIE. I am not in society, Hesione. If I didn't make acquaintances in
that way I shouldn't have any at all.

MRS HUSHABYE. Well, no harm if you know how to take care of yourself.
May I ask his name?

ELLIE [slowly and musically]. Marcus Darnley.

MRS HUSHABYE [echoing the music]. Marcus Darnley! What a splendid name!

ELLIE. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. I think so too; but I was afraid it
was only a silly fancy of my own.

MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! Is he one of the Aberdeen Darnleys?

ELLIE. Nobody knows. Just fancy! He was found in an antique chest--

MRS HUSHABYE. A what?

ELLIE. An antique chest, one summer morning in a rose garden, after a
night of the most terrible thunderstorm.

MRS HUSHABYE. What on earth was he doing in the chest? Did he get into
it because he was afraid of the lightning?

ELLIE. Oh, no, no: he was a baby. The name Marcus Darnley was
embroidered on his baby clothes. And five hundred pounds in gold.

MRS HUSHABYE [Looking hard at her]. Ellie!

ELLIE. The garden of the Viscount--

MRS HUSHABYE. --de Rougemont?

ELLIE [innocently]. No: de Larochejaquelin. A French family. A vicomte.
His life has been one long romance. A tiger--

MRS HUSHABYE. Slain by his own hand?

ELLIE. Oh, no: nothing vulgar like that. He saved the life of the tiger
from a hunting party: one of King Edward's hunting parties in India.
The King was furious: that was why he never had his military services
properly recognized. But he doesn't care. He is a Socialist and despises
rank, and has been in three revolutions fighting on the barricades.

MRS HUSHABYE. How can you sit there telling me such lies? You, Ellie, of
all people! And I thought you were a perfectly simple, straightforward,
good girl.

ELLIE [rising, dignified but very angry]. Do you mean you don't believe
me?

MRS HUSHABYE. Of course I don't believe you. You're inventing every word
of it. Do you take me for a fool?

Ellie stares at her. Her candor is so obvious that Mrs Hushabye is
puzzled.

ELLIE. Goodbye, Hesione. I'm very sorry. I see now that it sounds very
improbable as I tell it. But I can't stay if you think that way about
me.

MR