[Evasively.] Oh——!

Roope.

[Joining them.] My dear Mrs. Anslow, Mr. Mackworth is one of the most gifted authors of the present day.

Philip.

[Glaring at Roope.] Tsssh!

Roope.

[To Mrs. Anslow.] Get his books from your library instantly. I envy you the treat in store for you——

[Noyes again appears.

Noyes.

Madame de Chaumié.

[Ottoline de Chaumié enters—a beautiful, pale, elegant young woman of three-and-thirty, with a slightly foreign air and perfect refinement of manner. Noyes retires. Everybody is manifestly pleased to see Ottoline, except Philip who picks up a little figure from the writing-table and examines it critically.

Roope.

[Hurrying to her and taking her hand.] Ah——!

Ottoline.

Robbie dear!

Mrs. Quebec.

[Going to Ottoline.] Oh! [They embrace.] This is lovely!

Ottoline.

[To Mrs. Anslow, who comes to her.] Millicent——! [To Green, who bustles forward and kisses her hand.] How do you do?

Mrs. Quebec.

[To Ottoline.] You didn't stay long at the Railtons' last night, Ottoline.

Ottoline.

I had a headache—mother was so vexed with me——

Mrs. Anslow.

Headache or not, you looked divine.

Mrs. Quebec.

A vision!

Green.

[To Ottoline.] Haw! I hope you saw the remarks about you in this morning's papah, deah lady.

Ottoline.

[To Green.] For shame, Mr. Green! Have you been flattering me again?

Green.

Haw, haw, haw, haw——!

Roope.

[Standing near Philip.] Madame de Chaumié——

Ottoline.

[Advancing.] Yes?

Roope.

Here's an old friend of ours whom you haven't met for years—Mackworth.

[She starts and then waits, rooted, for Philip's approach. He replaces the figure carefully and comes to her, and their hands touch. Roope leaves them and engages the others in conversation.

Ottoline.

[To Philip, in a low voice, her eyes sparkling.] I had no idea I was to have this pleasure.

Philip.

[Gently, but without exceeding the bounds of mere courtesy.] Robbie excels in surprises; he has been almost equally reserved with me. Are you very well?

Ottoline.

Very. And you?

Philip.

Very. And Sir Randle and Lady Filson?

Ottoline.

Quite well—and my brother Bertram. [Chilled.] Perhaps you've heard that I am making my home with them now in London, permanently—that I've left Paris?

Philip.

Robbie—and the newspapers—have told me. It's late in the day to do it—may I offer you my sympathy?

Ottoline.

[With a stately inclination of the head.] Thank you. And I my congratulations on your success?

Philip.

[Quietly.] Success!

Ottoline.

[Comprehending.] Ah? Le public est si bête. I've read every line you've written, I believe. [He bows.] I—I have felt proud to think that we were once—that we were once—not des inconnus.

[He bows again, and there is silence between them. The dining-room door opens and Noyes presents himself. A waiter is seen in the dining-room, standing at the side table.

Noyes.

[To Roope.] Lunch is served, sir.

Roope.

[To everybody.] Come along! Come along, dear excellent friends! [Ottoline smiles graciously at Philip and turns from him.] Lead the way, dear Mrs. Anslow. Madame de Chaumié! [Mrs. Anslow slips her arm through Ottoline.] You both sit opposite the fireplace. Dear Mrs. Wally! Come along, my dear Phil! [Putting an arm round Green's shoulder.] Colly——!

[They all move into the dining-room, and the curtain falls. It rises again almost immediately. A chair, withdrawn from the further window, is now beside the fauteuil-stool, on its right; and the chair which was close to the small table has been pulled out into the room, and faces the fauteuil-stool at some little distance from it. The doors are closed. Mrs. Anslow and Mrs. Quebec are taking their departure. The former is saying good-bye to Ottoline, who is standing before the fireplace; the latter is talking to Roope near the door on the left. On the right is Philip, ready to receive his share of the adieux.

Mrs. Anslow.

[Shaking hands with Ottoline.] Good-bye. You might come on to Olympia; my sister-in-law's box holds six.

Ottoline.

Sorry. I really am full up this afternoon. [Mrs. Quebec comes to Ottoline as Mrs. Anslow goes to Philip. Roope opens the door on the left and remains there, waiting to escort the ladies to the outer door.] Can I give you a lift anywhere, Esmé?

Mrs. Quebec.

Thanks; Millicent's taking me along with her to the Horse Show.

Mrs. Anslow.

[Shaking hands with Philip.] Very pleased to meet you again. Ever see anything now of the Fairfields?

Philip.

Never.

Mrs. Anslow.

No loss. I believe dear old Eustace is off his head.

Philip.

Possibly.

Mrs. Anslow.

[Tolerantly.] But then, so many people are off their heads, aren't they?

Philip.

A great many.

Mrs. Anslow.

[Bestowing a parting nod upon Philip and crossing to the open door.] Sha'n't wait, Esmé. It's a month's journey to Hammersmith in the ark.

Mrs. Quebec.

[Kissing Ottoline.] Good-bye.

Mrs. Anslow.

[To Roope.] Charming lunch. Enjoyed myself enormously.

Mrs. Quebec.

[Shaking hands with Philip hastily.] Good-bye, Mr. Mackworth.

Philip.

Good-bye.

[Roope and Mrs. Anslow have disappeared; Mrs. Quebec follows them. Ottoline approaches Philip slowly.

Ottoline.

[Giving him her hand.] Good-bye.

Philip.

[Bending over it formally.] Good-bye.

Ottoline.

We—we're in Ennismore Gardens, you