class="smcap">Hel. Corney!

Corn. (alarmed) Yes!

Hel. Do you know anything of this?

Corn. Why yes! Peter put ’em there!

Dunn. (down C.) What! I put them there?

Corn. (crosses to Dunn C.) Yes, of course, now—what’s the good of denying it, old man? (aside, digging Dunn’s ribs as he gets R. of him) Say yes, or Sillocks won’t approve of me.

Car. (advances slightly L.) Is that true Peter? Did you put them there?

Dunn. (perplexed) Well—(Corney looks at him) Yes—I suppose I must have done.

Corn. (over Dunn’s shoulder) Thanks—one extra lie can’t press much on your conscience.

Corney turns to Beatrice, who is R. C.

Bea. I’m so glad it wasn’t you, Corney.

Corn. So am I. Don’t make such a fuss about it, Helen, there’s no great crime in having photos of pretty girls.

Beatrice and Corney go up towards dining-room R. H.

Hel. (at back of table, with a withering glance at Dunn) Then we may fairly assume that those yellow-backed French novels I found in the study, are yours also?

Dunn. (turning C.) Mine!! Look here, Helen——

Corn. (turns quickly, coming back to C.) Helen! You’re too prying by half! Peter never imagined for a moment that you’d rake them out.

Dunn looks at Corney inquiringly.

Hat. (R.) Oh, Helen; they’re not so very dreadful! At least, the one I read wasn’t.

Hel. What! Oh, Carrie! What are we to do?

Corn. There’s not so much harm in these French books after all. They’re very much over-rated—I mean, exaggerated.

Dunn. I suppose Dobbin sent them up in a mistake for a bundle of circulars. (aside to Corney, with paper, his back to audience) What is it? What’s the idea?

Corn. Old Sillocks! Must stand well with the father. It’s all right, you can bear it. I cannot stand wrong——

Bea. Corney!

Corn. Oh, excuse me, Bea.

Joins Beatrice and exits with her in earnest conversation R. U. E., after pushing Hattie out of the way.

Hel. It is fortunate the servants are ignorant of French; it is a blessing they cannot realize the enormity of your offence.

Dunn goes to couch, sitting.

Dunn. (C.) I’m as bad as the servants—Neither can I.

Car. (crossing to Dunn, sits L. of him) It is fortunate we detected them before the new Governess arrived.

Dunn. Yes; it wouldn’t do to throw temptation in her way.

Hat. (R. of couch) When is she coming, Peter?

Dunn. I can’t tell you that. She has started—I believe, but has found it agreeable to call on some friends at Leamington.

Car. Then she may not be here for a day or two.

Dunn. It looks like it. She has sent her Leamington address, so she probably expects a message from us.

Hel. (coming fiercely to Dunn) Why have you kept this knowledge from us?

Dunn. You could have had it any time for the asking.

Hel. Where is her note?

Dunn. There’s no occasion to put on that tragedy queen expression. Here it is—(selects and gives letter.)

Hel. (crosses L. as she reads) Madeline Mifton, care of Mrs. Miller, Barton street.

Hat. Did she seem a jolly sort of girl?

Hel. (turning L. corner) She’s not engaged to be jolly!

Hattie with toss of her head, goes up R.

Dunn. She appeared to me an agreeable kind of person, and the people at Chester, where she was living, spoke very well of her.

Car. (arm in Dunn’s) I hope she will be good to the children.

Dunn. Well! She looked the kind of person who would be good to the children.

Hel. You have so little discrimination—I ought to have gone to Chester myself.

Goes up L. near fireplace.

Dunn. Well, nobody stopped you; and you have her references anyway. (Carrie soothes him and up to fireplace to Helen.)

Sill. I’m sorry you’re not going with us, Dunn.

Dunn. (crossing Sillocks and sitting L. of table) It’s just as well as it happens; I’ve had a letter from Tompkins, saying that he’s going to be in town for a few hours; he is sure to run in to look at his treasures.

Sill. I saw in the Telegraph that he had bought the celebrated statue “Niobe” from the Bernoldi collection; is that so?

Dunn. Yes! I have it here in the house. We have insured it for £10,000.

Sill. A good sum—what was your idea of bringing it here?

Helen, Hattie and Carrie up at back near fireplace.

Dunn. Oh! Mr. Tompkin’s new mansion, at Henley, isn’t ready yet; and I did not care to risk it in storage.

Sill. You don’t go in for curiosities yourself?

Dunn. No! No money in ’em! I’ve a genuine Rembrandt in the dining-room,—said to be worth £12,000.

Sill. Yours?

Dunn. No! Tompkins’s! Come and have a look at it—it may be your only chance. Just as well to be able to say you’ve seen these things.

Exit Sillocks and Dunn R.