[SIR ROBERT CHILTERN _enters_. _A man of forty_, _but looking somewhat younger_. _Clean-shaven_, _with finely-cut features_, _dark-haired and dark-eyed_. _A personality of mark_. _Not popular—few personalities are_. _But intensely admired by the few_, _and deeply respected by the many_. _The note of his manner is that of perfect distinction_, _with a slight touch of pride_. _One feels that he is conscious of the success he has made in life_. _A nervous temperament_, _with a tired look_. _The firmly-chiselled mouth and chin contrast strikingly with the romantic expression in the deep-set eyes_. _The variance is suggestive of an almost complete separation of passion and intellect_, _as though thought and emotion were each isolated in its own sphere through some violence of will-power_. _There is nervousness in the nostrils_, _and in the pale_, _thin_, _pointed hands_. _It would be inaccurate to call him picturesque_. _Picturesqueness cannot survive the House of Commons_. _But Vandyck would have liked to have painted his head_.] SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Good evening, Lady Markby! I hope you have brought Sir John with you? LADY MARKBY. Oh! I have brought a much more charming person than Sir John. Sir John’s temper since he has taken seriously to politics has become quite unbearable. Really, now that the House of Commons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal of harm. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I hope not, Lady Markby. At any rate we do our best to waste the public time, don’t we? But who is this charming person you have been kind enough to bring to us? LADY MARKBY. Her name is Mrs. Cheveley! One of the Dorsetshire Cheveleys, I suppose. But I really don’t know. Families are so mixed nowadays. Indeed, as a rule, everybody turns out to be somebody else. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Mrs. Cheveley? I seem to know the name. LADY MARKBY. She has just arrived from Vienna. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Ah! yes. I think I know whom you mean. LADY MARKBY. Oh! she goes everywhere there, and has such pleasant scandals about all her friends. I really must go to Vienna next winter. I hope there is a good chef at the Embassy. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. If there is not, the Ambassador will certainly have to be recalled. Pray point out Mrs. Cheveley to me. I should like to see her. LADY MARKBY. Let me introduce you. [_To_ MRS. CHEVELEY.] My dear, Sir Robert Chiltern is dying to know you! SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Bowing_.] Every one is dying to know the brilliant Mrs. Cheveley. Our attachés at Vienna write to us about nothing else. MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you, Sir Robert. An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship. It starts in the right manner. And I find that I know Lady Chiltern already. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Really?