(_All greet_ ADMIRAL _in casual tones_.) GRICE. Thanks. (MADGE _pours him a cup of tea. He takes it and crosses and shakes hands with_ LADY TRENCHARD _and_ PHYLLIS, _then goes and stands below fender_.) FARADAY. (_Stopping_ MARTIN _at door_ L.) And Martin, see that another army list is bought. Send in to Lumley at once. MARTIN. _Another_ army list, sir? Yes, sir. (_Exit_ L.IE.) GRICE. (_In an injured tone_) Celia is not here! PHYLLIS. She has gone to see old Wilson, young Wilson's father. There is a rumor that he's wavering. FARADAY. _Wavering_! _Wilson?_ He has some influence, too. I do hate a station master who can't stick to his political principles. GRICE. What's Wilson's trouble? EVELYN. Compulsory vaccination. He can't spell it, so he's against it. GRICE. Silly ass! Well, if anyone can settle him, it will be _Celia_. PHYLLIS. Yes, isn't she splendid? I believe Celia could make _anybody_ do _anything_. AUNT IDA. Have you just discovered that? GRICE. I don't think that's much of a discovery. AUNT IDA. Nor I. MADGE. Yes, but Aunt Ida, you never really knew Celia before. AUNT IDA. Before what? MADGE. (_Enthusiastically_) Before she was engaged. Before she let herself go, before she showed us all the _Celiaishness_ of _Celia_. GRICE. There isn't a finer girl in England. (_Puts teacup on mantel_.) No, nor a finer dinner than the one I'm giving her to-night. (_Enter_ TARVER L.I, _elaborately dressed and spattered with mud. He leans against jamb of door weakly. Everyone but_ AUNT IDA _starts in surprise at sight of_ TARVER. NOTE: AUNT IDA _does not participate in this scene, being wholly engrossed in the matter of the Times_.) PHYLLIS. (_Starting up, goes toward_ TARVER _a few steps_) Bobby!!!! TARVER. (_Leaning weakly against door_) I'm dead to the world. EVELYN. What has happened? TARVER. The most awful thing. PHYLLIS. It was that dreadful ordeal of laying the corner stone, I suppose. GRICE. (_Contemptuously_) They asked you to lay a corner stone? TARVER. They had to have a _personage_. OMNES. A personage! TARVER. You see, the beastly ground was full of puddles and, just as I stepped forward with a trowel in my hand, I slipped, and---- GRICE. And sat down in one of them, I suppose. TARVER. That's exactly what I did do. Oh! How they all yelled. (_All laugh_, ADMIRAL _loudest. Coming_ C. _and limping_) It's all very well for you to laugh, Admiral, but that puddle may cost us the seat. FARADAY. Tarver! GRICE. Tarver! Bring a trowel and a pail of mortar to my garden to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock sharp. I'll teach you _how_ to lay a corner stone. (_Gets his cup, goes up and crosses above sofa to teatable, and puts his cup down_.) (PHYLLIS _comes_ C. _to_ TARVER.) TARVER. Oh, Phyllis, where are my voice lozenges? PHYLLIS. (_Taking his arm sympathetically_) They're all gone, Bobby, but Celia said she would fetch you some.