[MABEL CHILTERN _is a perfect example of the English type of prettiness_, _the apple-blossom type_. _She has all the fragrance and freedom of a flower_. _There is ripple after ripple of sunlight in her hair_, _and the little mouth_, _with its parted lips_, _is expectant_, _like the mouth of a child_. _She has the fascinating tyranny of youth_, _and the astonishing courage of innocence_. _To sane people she is not reminiscent of any work of art_. _But she is really like a Tanagra statuette_, _and would be rather annoyed if she were told so_.] LORD CAVERSHAM. Because he leads such an idle life. MABEL CHILTERN. How can you say such a thing? Why, he rides in the Row at ten o’clock in the morning, goes to the Opera three times a week, changes his clothes at least five times a day, and dines out every night of the season. You don’t call that leading an idle life, do you? LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Looking at her with a kindly twinkle in his eyes_.] You are a very charming young lady! MABEL CHILTERN. How sweet of you to say that, Lord Caversham! Do come to us more often. You know we are always at home on Wednesdays, and you look so well with your star! LORD CAVERSHAM. Never go anywhere now. Sick of London Society. Shouldn’t mind being introduced to my own tailor; he always votes on the right side. But object strongly to being sent down to dinner with my wife’s milliner. Never could stand Lady Caversham’s bonnets. MABEL CHILTERN. Oh, I love London Society! I think it has immensely improved. It is entirely composed now of beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics. Just what Society should be. LORD CAVERSHAM. Hum! Which is Goring? Beautiful idiot, or the other thing? MABEL CHILTERN. [_Gravely_.] I have been obliged for the present to put Lord Goring into a class quite by himself. But he is developing charmingly! LORD CAVERSHAM. Into what? MABEL CHILTERN. [_With a little curtsey_.] I hope to let you know very soon, Lord Caversham! MASON. [_Announcing guests_.] Lady Markby. Mrs. Cheveley. [_Enter_ LADY MARKBY _and_ MRS. CHEVELEY. LADY MARKBY _is a pleasant_, _kindly_, _popular woman_, _with gray hair à la marquise and good lace_. MRS. CHEVELEY, _who accompanies her_, _is tall and rather slight_. _Lips very thin and highly-coloured_, _a line of scarlet on a pallid face_. _Venetian red hair_, _aquiline nose_, _and long throat_. _Rouge accentuates the natural paleness of her complexion_. _Gray-green eyes that move restlessly_. _She is in heliotrope_, _with diamonds_. _She looks rather like an orchid_, _and makes great demands on one’s curiosity_. _In all her movements she is extremely graceful_. _A work of art_, _on the whole_, _but showing the influence of too many schools_.] LADY MARKBY. Good evening, dear Gertrude! So kind of you to let me bring my friend, Mrs. Cheveley. Two such charming women should know each other!