one of those flowery Botticellian
faces only met with in England, comes in through the curtained
door, which she leaves open, disclosing the glimpse of a white
wall. PAYNTER looks up at her; she shakes her head, with an
expression of concern.

PAYNTER. Where's she gone?

BURNEY. Just walks about, I fancy.

PAYNTER. She and the Governor don't hit it! One of these days
she'll flit--you'll see. I like her--she's a lady; but these
thoroughbred 'uns--it's their skin and their mouths. They'll go till
they drop if they like the job, and if they don't, it's nothing but
jib--jib--jib. How was it down there before she married him?

BURNEY. Oh! Quiet, of course.

PAYNTER. Country homes--I know 'em. What's her father, the old
Rector, like?

BURNEY. Oh! very steady old man. The mother dead long before I took
the place.

PAYNTER. Not a penny, I suppose?

BURNEY. [Shaking her head] No; and seven of them.

PAYNTER. [At sound of the hall door] The Governor!

BURNEY withdraws through the curtained door.

GEORGE DEDMOND enters from the hall. He is in evening dress,
opera hat, and overcoat; his face is broad, comely, glossily
shaved, but with neat moustaches. His eyes, clear, small, and
blue-grey, have little speculation. His hair is well brushed.

GEORGE. [Handing PAYNTER his coat and hat] Look here, Paynter!
When I send up from the Club for my dress things, always put in a
black waistcoat as well.

PAYNTER. I asked the mistress, sir.

GEORGE. In future--see?

PAYNTER. Yes, sir. [Signing towards the window] Shall I leave the
sunset, sir?

But GEORGE has crossed to the curtained door; he opens it and
says: "Clare!" Receiving no answer, he goes in. PAYNTER
switches up the electric light. His face, turned towards the
curtained door, is apprehensive.

GEORGE. [Re-entering] Where's Mrs. Dedmond?

PAYNTER. I hardly know, sir.

GEORGE. Dined in?

PAYNTER. She had a mere nothing at seven, sir.

GEORGE. Has she gone out, since?

PAYNTER. Yes, sir--that is, yes. The--er--mistress was not dressed
at all. A little matter of fresh air, I think; sir.

GEORGE. What time did my mother say they'd be here for Bridge?

PAYNTER. Sir Charles and Lady Dedmond were coming at half-past nine;
and Captain Huntingdon, too--Mr. and Mrs. Fullarton might be a bit
late, sir.

GEORGE. It's that now. Your mistress said nothing?