ook at it._] Is that my
work-basket? [_After a pause._] My gloves? [FIDDLER _assents._] And I
suppose-- [_Hurriedly going to the writing-table._] My--yes, there it
is: my wedding ring!--just where I dropped it! Oh, oh, oh, he keeps it
like this--hat, gloves, basket and ring, everything just as it was
that crazy, mad day when I-- [_She glances at_ FIDDLER _and breaks
off._] But for heaven's sake, Fiddler, set that chair on its feet!

FIDDLER. Against orders, ma'am.

CYNTHIA. Against orders?

FIDDLER. You kicked it over, ma'am, the day you left us.

CYNTHIA. No wonder he hates me with the chair in that state! He nurses
his wrath to keep it warm. So, after all, Fiddler, everything _is_
changed, and that chair is the proof of it. I suppose Cynthia K is
the only thing in the world that cares a whinney whether I'm alive or
dead. [_She breaks down and sobs._] How is she, Fiddler?

FIDDLER. Off her oats, ma'am, this evening.

CYNTHIA. Off her oats! Well, she loves me, so I suppose she will die,
or change, or--or something. Oh, she'll die, there's no doubt about
that--she'll die. [FIDDLER, _who has been watching his chance, takes
the key off the table while she is sobbing, tiptoes up stage, unlocks
the door and goes out. After he has done so_, CYNTHIA _rises and dries
her eyes._] There--I'm a fool--I must go--before--before--he--

[_As she speaks her last word_, JOHN _comes in swiftly._

JOHN. Mrs. Karslake!

CYNTHIA. [_Confused._] I--I--I just heard Cynthia K was ill-- [JOHN
_assents._ CYNTHIA _tries to put on a cheerful and indifferent
manner._] I--I ran round--I--and--and-- [_Pausing, she turns and takes
a few steps._] Well, I understand it's all over.

JOHN. [_Cheerfully._] Yes, it's all over.

CYNTHIA. How is the bride?

JOHN. Oh, she's a wonder.

CYNTHIA. Indeed! Did she paw the ground like the war-horse in the
Bible? I'm sure when Vida sees a wedding ring she smells the battle
afar off. As for you, my dear Karslake, I should have thought once
bitten, twice shy! But, you know best.

VIDA, _unable to keep her finger long out of a pie, saunters
in._

VIDA. Oh, Cynthia, I've just been through it again, and I feel as if I
were eighteen. There's no use talking about it, my dear, with a woman
it's never the second time! And how nice you were, Jack,--he never
even laughed at us! [SIR WILFRID _follows her with hat and cane._ VIDA
_kisses_ JOHN.] That's the wages of virtue!

SIR WILFRID. [_I