BURNEY, the maid, a girl with one of those flowery Botticellian faces only met with in England, comes in through the curtained door, which she leaves open, disclosing the glimpse of a white wall. PAYNTER looks up at her; she shakes her head, with an expression of concern. PAYNTER. Where's she gone? BURNEY. Just walks about, I fancy. PAYNTER. She and the Governor don't hit it! One of these days she'll flit--you'll see. I like her--she's a lady; but these thoroughbred 'uns--it's their skin and their mouths. They'll go till they drop if they like the job, and if they don't, it's nothing but jib--jib--jib. How was it down there before she married him? BURNEY. Oh! Quiet, of course. PAYNTER. Country homes--I know 'em. What's her father, the old Rector, like? BURNEY. Oh! very steady old man. The mother dead long before I took the place. PAYNTER. Not a penny, I suppose? BURNEY. [Shaking her head] No; and seven of them. PAYNTER. [At sound of the hall door] The Governor! BURNEY withdraws through the curtained door. GEORGE DEDMOND enters from the hall. He is in evening dress, opera hat, and overcoat; his face is broad, comely, glossily shaved, but with neat moustaches. His eyes, clear, small, and blue-grey, have little speculation. His hair is well brushed. GEORGE. [Handing PAYNTER his coat and hat] Look here, Paynter! When I send up from the Club for my dress things, always put in a black waistcoat as well. PAYNTER. I asked the mistress, sir. GEORGE. In future--see? PAYNTER. Yes, sir. [Signing towards the window] Shall I leave the sunset, sir? But GEORGE has crossed to the curtained door; he opens it and says: "Clare!" Receiving no answer, he goes in. PAYNTER switches up the electric light. His face, turned towards the curtained door, is apprehensive. GEORGE. [Re-entering] Where's Mrs. Dedmond? PAYNTER. I hardly know, sir. GEORGE. Dined in? PAYNTER. She had a mere nothing at seven, sir. GEORGE. Has she gone out, since? PAYNTER. Yes, sir--that is, yes. The--er--mistress was not dressed at all. A little matter of fresh air, I think; sir. GEORGE. What time did my mother say they'd be here for Bridge? PAYNTER. Sir Charles and Lady Dedmond were coming at half-past nine; and Captain Huntingdon, too--Mr. and Mrs. Fullarton might be a bit late, sir. GEORGE. It's that now. Your mistress said nothing? PAYNTER. Not to me, sir. GEORGE. Send Burney. PAYNTER. Very good, sir. [He withdraws.] GEORGE stares gloomily at the card tables. BURNEY comes in front the hall. GEORGE. Did your mistress say anything before she went out? BURNEY. Yes, sir. GEORGE. Well? BURNEY. I don't think she meant it, sir. GEORGE. I don't want to know what you don't think, I want the fact. BURNEY. Yes, sir. The mistress said: "I hope it'll be a pleasant evening, Burney!" GEORGE. Oh!--Thanks.