[BETTY, a middle-aged servant, is fastening a hammock--its first appearance this year--between two trees at the back. In front of these there is a solid oak garden-table, with a comfortable chair on the right of it and a straight-backed one on the left. There are books, papers, and magazines on the table. BELINDA, of whom we shall know more presently, is on the other side of the open windows which look on to the garden, talking to BETTY.] BELINDA (from inside the house). Are you sure you're tying it up tightly enough, Betty? BETTY (coming to front of hammock). Yes, ma'am; I think it's firm. BELINDA. Because I'm not the fairy I used to be. BETTY (trying the knots at the other end of the hammock). Yes, ma'am; it's quite firm this end too. BELINDA. It's not the ends I'm frightened of; it's the middle where the weight's coming. (She comes into the garden.) It looks very nice. BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA (trying the middle of it with her hand). I asked them at the Stores if they were quite _sure_ it would bear me, and they said it would take anything up to--I forget how many tons. I know I thought it was rather rude of them. (Looking at it anxiously) How does one get in? So trying to be a sailor! BETTY. I think you sit in it, ma'am, and then (explaining with her hands) throw your legs over. BELINDA. I see. (She sits gingerly in the hammock, and then, with a sudden flutter of white, does what BETTY suggests.) Yes. (Regretfully.) I'm afraid that was rather wasted on you, Betty. We must have some spectators next time. BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA. Cushions. (She arranges them at her back with BETTY'S help. With a sigh of comfort) There! Now then, Betty, about callers. BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA. If Mr. Baxter calls--he is the rather prim gentleman-- BETTY. Yes, ma'am; the one who's been here several times before. BELINDA (giving BETTY a quick look). Yes. Well, if he calls, you'll say, "Not at home." BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA. He will say, "Oh--er--oh--er--really." Then you'll smile very sweetly and say, "I beg your pardon, was it Mr. _Baxter_?" And he'll say, "Yes!" and you'll say, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir; _this_ way, please." BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA. That's right, Betty. Well now, if Mr. Devenish calls--he is the rather poetical gentleman-- BETTY. Yes, ma'am; the one who's always coming here. BELINDA (with a pleased smile). Yes. Well, if he calls you'll say, "Not at home." BETTY. Yes, ma'am. BELINDA. He'll immediately throw down his bunch of flowers and dive despairingly into the moat. You'll stop him, just as he is going in, and say, "I beg your pardon, sir, was it Mr. _Devenish_?" And he will say, "Yes!" and you will say, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir; _this_ way, please." BETTY. Yes, ma'am. And suppose they both call together? BELINDA. We won't suppose anything so exciting, Betty. BETTY. No, ma'am. And suppose any other gentleman calls? BELINDA (with a sigh). There aren't any other gentlemen.