BENNET. I will see to it myself. [_He goes out_.] THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. [_To her sister_] One’s feet are always so cold after a railway journey. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I’ve been told that, nowadays, they heat the carriages. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Ah, it is an age of luxury! I wish I knew which were her favourite flowers. It is so nice to be greeted by one’s favourite flowers. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she loves lilies. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And they are so appropriate to a bride. So— _Announced by Bennet_, _Dr. Freemantle bustles in_. _He is a dapper little man_, _clean-shaven_, _with quick brisk ways_. DR. FREEMANTLE [_he shakes hands_]. Well, and how are we this afternoon? [_He feels the pulse of the Younger Miss Wetherell_] Steadier. Much steadier! [_of the Elder Miss Wetherell_.] Nervous tension greatly relieved. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She has been sleeping much better. DR. FREEMANTLE [_he pats the hand of the Elder Miss Wetherell_]. Excellent! Excellent! THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She ate a good breakfast this morning. DR. FREEMANTLE [_he pats the hand of the Younger Miss Wetherell_]. Couldn’t have a better sign. [_He smiles from one to the other_.] Brain disturbance, caused by futile opposition to the inevitable, evidently abating. One page Marcus Aurelius every morning before breakfast. “Adapt thyself,” says Marcus Aurelius, “to the things with which thy lot has been cast. Whatever happens—” THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, doctor, it was all so sudden. DR. FREEMANTLE. The unexpected! It has a way of taking us by surprise—bowling us over—completely. Till we pull ourselves together. Make the best of what can’t be helped—like brave, sweet gentlewomen. [_He presses their hands_. _They are both wiping away a tear_.] When do you expect them? THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. To-night, by the half-past eight train. We had a telegram this morning from Dover. DR. FREEMANTLE. Um! and this is to be her room? [_He takes it in_.] The noble and renowned Constance, friend and confidant of the elder Pitt, maker of history, first Lady Bantock—by Hoppner—always there to keep an eye on her, remind her of the family traditions. Brilliant idea, brilliant! [_They are both smiling with pleasure_.] THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And you don’t think—it is what we wanted to ask you—that there is any fear of her finding it a little trying—the light? You see, this is an exceptionally sunny room. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And these actresses—if all one hears is true— _The dying sun is throwing his last beams across the room_.