e! What a
wedding she shall have!

[_Again there is a pause, and then_ SIR RANDLE _leaves
his chair and seats himself beside_ LADY FILSON.

SIR RANDLE.

[_Putting his arm round her, fondly._] Mother!

[_They look at one another, and he draws her to him and
kisses her. As he does so, the glazed door opens and_
WESTRIP _returns, carrying an illustrated-weekly._ LADY
FILSON _rises hastily and goes to the writing-table._

WESTRIP.

[_Handing her the paper._] It was in the servants' hall, Lady Filson.

LADY FILSON.

[_Laying the paper and the press-cuttings upon the writing-table, and
sitting at the table and busying herself with her letters._] Thank you
so much.

WESTRIP.

[_To_ SIR RANDLE.] Are you ready for me now, Sir Randle?

SIR RANDLE.

[_Abstractedly._] Er--is there anything of grave importance to-day, Mr.
Westrip? I forget.

WESTRIP.

[_Coming to him._] Boxfield and Henderson, the photographers, are
anxious to photograph you and Lady Filson for their series of "Notable
People," Sir Randle.

SIR RANDLE.

[_Rolling his head from side to side._] Oh! Oh, dear; oh, dear!

LADY FILSON.

[_Wearily._] Oh, dear!

SIR RANDLE.

_How_ we are pestered, Lady Filson and I!

LADY FILSON.

Terrible!

SIR RANDLE.

No peace! No peace!

LADY FILSON.

Or privacy.

WESTRIP.

[_Producing a note-book from his pocket._] They will attend here any
morning convenient to you and Lady Filson, Sir Randle. It won't take
ten minutes.

SIR RANDLE.

[_To_ LADY FILSON, _resignedly._] Winnie----?

LADY FILSON.

[_Entering the appointment on a tablet._] Tuesday at eleven.

SIR RANDLE.

[_To_ WESTRIP.] Remind me.

WESTRIP.

[_Writing in his note-book._] Yes, Sir Randle.

SIR RANDLE.

And advise Madame de Chaumie and Mr. Bertram, with my love, of the
appointment. Her ladyship and I will