Major! TARVER. [_With a gasp._] Oh! SALOME. Not well again? TARVER. Indigestion. I'm always like this after dinner. SALOME. But what would you do if the trumpet summoned you to battle? TARVER. Oh, I suppose I should pack up a few charcoal biscuits and toddle out, you know. GEORGIANA. [_To DARBEY._] I've never studied the Army Guide. DARBEY. You're thinking of---- GEORGIANA. The Turf Guide--beg pardon. I mean, the Army keeps a string of trained nurses, doesn't it? DARBEY. There _are_ Army nurses. GEORGIANA. Certainly. I was wondering whether your Colonel will send one with a perambulator to fetch you at about half-past eight. [_She leaves DARBEY and goes to THE DEAN. SHEBA joins DARBEY at the piano._ GEORGIANA. Well, Gus, my boy, you seem out of condition. THE DEAN. I'm rather anxious for the post to bring to-day's "Times." You know I've offered a thousand pounds to our Restoration Fund. GEORGIANA. What! THE DEAN. Hush--I'll tell you. [_They talk in undertones. BLORE enters to remove the tea-tray._ TARVER. [_Jumping up excitedly--to SALOME._] Eh? Oh, certainly--delighted! [_Singing to himself._] "Come into the garden, Maud, for the black bat----" SALOME. Now you're yourself again. TARVER. I'm always dreadfully excited when I'm asked to sing. It's as good as a carbonate of soda lozenge to me to be asked to sing. [_To BLORE._] My music is in my overcoat pocket. [_BLORE crosses to the door._ SHEBA. And Mr. Darbey has brought his violin. TARVER. [_In a rage, glaring at DARBEY._] Hah! There now! DARBEY. [_To BLORE._] You'll find it in the hall. [_BLORE goes out. THE DEAN dozes in a chair. SALOME and SHEBA talk to GEORGIANA at the table._ TARVER. [_To himself._] He always presumes with his confounded fiddle when I'm going to entertain. He knows that his fiddle's never hoarse and that I am, sometimes. DARBEY. [_To himself._] Tarver always tries to cut me out with his elderly Chest C. He ought to put it on the Retired List. TARVER. I'll sing him off his legs to-night--I'm in lovely voice. [_He walks into the Library and is heard trying his voice, singing "Come into the garden, Maud."_ DARBEY. [_To himself._] He needn't bother himself. While he was dozing in the carriage I threw his music out of the window. _TARVER re-enters triumphantly._ _BLORE re-enters, carrying a violin-case and a leather music roll. DARBEY takes the violin-case, opens it, and produces his violin and music. BLORE hands the music roll to TARVER and goes out._ TARVER. [_To SALOME, trembling with excitement._] My tones are like a beautiful bell this evening. I'm so glad, for all our sakes. [_As he takes the leather music roll from BLORE._] Thank you, that's it. SALOME. What will you begin with? TARVER. "Come into the garden, Maud." I've begun with "Corne into the garden, Maud" for years and years. [_He opens the music roll--it is empty._] Oh! Miss Jedd, I've forgotten my music! SALOME _and_ SHEBA. Oh! Major Tarver!