LORD ILLINGWORTH. Beautiful women never have time. They are always so occupied in being jealous of other people’s husbands. MRS. ALLONBY. I should have thought Lady Caroline would have grown tired of conjugal anxiety by this time! Sir John is her fourth! LORD ILLINGWORTH. So much marriage is certainly not becoming. Twenty years of romance make a woman look like a ruin; but twenty years of marriage make her something like a public building. MRS. ALLONBY. Twenty years of romance! Is there such a thing? LORD ILLINGWORTH. Not in our day. Women have become too brilliant. Nothing spoils a romance so much as a sense of humour in the woman. MRS. ALLONBY. Or the want of it in the man. LORD ILLINGWORTH. You are quite right. In a Temple every one should be serious, except the thing that is worshipped. MRS. ALLONBY. And that should be man? LORD ILLINGWORTH. Women kneel so gracefully; men don’t. MRS. ALLONBY. You are thinking of Lady Stutfield! LORD ILLINGWORTH. I assure you I have not thought of Lady Stutfield for the last quarter of an hour. MRS. ALLONBY. Is she such a mystery? LORD ILLINGWORTH. She is more than a mystery—she is a mood. MRS. ALLONBY. Moods don’t last. LORD ILLINGWORTH. It is their chief charm. [_Enter_ HESTER _and_ GERALD.] GERALD. Lord Illingworth, every one has been congratulating me, Lady Hunstanton and Lady Caroline, and . . . every one. I hope I shall make a good secretary. LORD ILLINGWORTH. You will be the pattern secretary, Gerald. [_Talks to him_.] MRS. ALLONBY. You enjoy country life, Miss Worsley? HESTER. Very much indeed. MRS. ALLONBY. Don’t find yourself longing for a London dinner-party? HESTER. I dislike London dinner-parties. MRS. ALLONBY. I adore them. The clever people never listen, and the stupid people never talk. HESTER. I think the stupid people talk a great deal. MRS. ALLONBY. Ah, I never listen! LORD ILLINGWORTH. My dear boy, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have made you the offer. It is because I like you so much that I want to have you with me. [_Exit_ HESTER _with_ GERALD.] Charming fellow, Gerald Arbuthnot! MRS. ALLONBY. He is very nice; very nice indeed. But I can’t stand the American young lady. LORD ILLINGWORTH. Why? MRS. ALLONBY. She told me yesterday, and in quite a loud voice too, that she was only eighteen. It was most annoying. LORD ILLINGWORTH. One should never trust a woman who tells one her real age. A woman who would tell one that, would tell one anything. MRS. ALLONBY. She is a Puritan besides— LORD ILLINGWORTH. Ah, that is inexcusable. I don’t mind plain women being Puritans. It is the only excuse they have for being plain. But she is decidedly pretty. I admire her immensely. [_Looks steadfastly at_ MRS. ALLONBY.] MRS. ALLONBY. What a thoroughly bad man you must be! LORD ILLINGWORTH. What do you call a bad man? MRS. ALLONBY. The sort of man who admires innocence. LORD ILLINGWORTH. And a bad woman?