o_ ROOPE, _who raises it to his lips--sweetly._] I
am glad you are home, Robbie, and that you are here to-night. [_To_
LADY FILSON _and_ SIR RANDLE.] Mother--Dad--[_espying_ BERTRAM] oh, and
there's Bertram--don't be scandalized, any of you! [_To_ ROOPE,
_resting her hands on his shoulders._] _Une fois de plus, mon ami, pour
vous temoigner ma gratitude!_

[_She kisses him._ LADY FILSON _laughs indulgently, and_
SIR RANDLE, _wagging his head, moves to the fireplace._

ROOPE.

Ha, ha, ha----!

OTTOLINE.

Ha, ha, ha! [_Going to the fireplace._] Ah, what a lovely fire! [_To_
SIR RANDLE, _as_ ROOPE _seats himself in the chair by the smoking-table
and prepares to make himself agreeable to_ LADY FILSON.] Share it with
me, Dad, and let me warm my toes before dinner. I'm frozen!

PHILIP.

[_Coming to the middle of the room._] My dear Ottoline--Lady
Filson--Sir Randle--I fear we shall _all_ have time to warm our toes
before dinner. [ROOPE, _who is about to address a remark to_ LADY
FILSON, _puts his hand to his mouth, and_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON
_look at_ PHILIP _inquiringly._] You mustn't blame me wholly for the
hitch in my poor entertainment----

LADY FILSON.

[_Amiably._] The kitchen! I guess your difficulties, Philip----

PHILIP.

No, nor my kitchen either----

OTTOLINE.

[_Turning the chair on the nearer side of the fireplace so that it
faces the fire._] The cook wasn't punctual! [_Installing herself in the
chair._] _Ah, la, la! Ces cuisinieres causent la moitie des ennuis sur
cette terre!_

PHILIP.

Oh, yes, the cook was punctual. [_His manner hardening a little._] The
truth is, we are waiting for a Mr. Dunning.

LADY FILSON.

Mr.----?

SIR RANDLE.

Mr.----?

OTTOLINE.

[_From her chair, where she is almost completely hidden from the
others--comfortably._] Good gracious! Who's Mr. Dunning, Philip?

[JOHN _and the waiter open the big doors. The
dining-table, round which the chairs are now arranged,
is prettily lighted by shaded candles._

PHILIP.

[_To_ JOHN, _sharply._] John----