w do you do?

JOHN. [_Very gay and no respecter of persons._] Good-afternoon, Mr.
Phillimore. Hello--here's the church! [_Crossing to_ MATTHEW _and
shaking hands. He slaps him on the back._] I hadn't the least
idea--how are you? By George, your reverence, that was a racy sermon
of yours on Divorce! What was your text? [_Sees_ VIDA _and bows, very
politely._] Galatians 4:2, "The more the merrier," or "Who next?"
[_Smiles._] As the whale said after Jonah! [CYNTHIA _makes a sudden
movement, upsetting her tea-cup._ JOHN _faces about quickly and they
face each other._ JOHN _gives a frank start. A pause holds them._

JOHN. [_Astounded, in a low voice._] Mrs. Karslake-- [_Bowing._] I was
not aware of the pleasure in store for me. I understood you were in
the country. [_Recovering and moving to her chair._] Perhaps you'll be
good enough to make me a cup of tea?--that is if the teapot wasn't
lost in the scrimmage. [_There is another pause._ CYNTHIA, _determined
to equal him in coolness, returns to the tea-tray._] Mr. Phillimore, I
came to get your signature in that matter of Cox _vs._ Keely.

PHILIP. I shall be at your service, but pray be seated.

[_He indicates a chair by the tea-table._

JOHN. [_Sitting beyond but not far from the tea-table._] And I also
understood you to say you wanted a saddle-horse.

PHILIP. You have a mare called--eh--"Cynthia K?"

JOHN. [_Promptly._] Yes--she's not for sale.

PHILIP. Oh, but she's just the mare I had set my mind on.

JOHN. [_With a touch of humour._] You want her for yourself?

PHILIP. [_A little flustered._] I--eh--I sometimes ride.

JOHN. [_Now sure of himself._] She's rather lively for you, Judge.
Mrs. Karslake used to ride her.

PHILIP. You don't care to sell her to me?

JOHN. She's a dangerous mare, Judge, and she's as delicate and
changeable as a girl. I'd hate to leave her in your charge!

CYNTHIA. [_Eagerly but in a low voice._] Leave her in mine, Mr.
Karslake!

JOHN. [_After a slight pause._] Mrs. Karslake knows all about a horse,
but-- [_Turning to_ CYNTHIA.] Cynthia K's got rather tricky of late.

CYNTHIA. [_Haughtily._] You mean to say you think she'd chuck me?

JOHN. [_With polite solicitude and still humourous. To_ PHILIP.] I'd
hate to have a mare of mine deprive you of a wife, Judge. [_Rises._
CYNTHIA _shows anger._] She goes to Saratoga next week, C. W.

VIDA. [_Who has been sitting and talking to_ MATTHEW _for lack of a
better man, comes