(PHYLLIS _comes_ L.C. _quickly and arranges her hair, etc_. MARTIN _re-enters, announcing_ COLONEL VAVASOUR. COLONEL SMITH _enters and stands_. MARTIN _closes door quietly, goes up_ L., _crosses it back, turns on lamp on piano and exits through morning room_.) SMITH. (_Bowing_) I am speaking to Miss Celia Faraday? PHYLLIS. (_Holding card in her hand_) Oh, no. I'm her much younger sister, but I have sent for her. Won't you sit down, Colonel Vavasour? (_Sits_ R. _of_ L. _table_. SMITH _sits_ L.) The card which you sent me proves that your errand is a sad one. I want to ask you to be very gentle in delivering your message to Celia. The news of Colonel Smith's death was first conveyed to her in to-day's "Times." SMITH. I am not very surprised to hear that. PHYLLIS. (_Melodramatically_) The bolt fell from a clear sky. She received no telegram, no letter to warn her of the impending destruction of her happiness. (_Places card on table_.) SMITH. (_Meaningly_) No, indeed. How could she? PHYLLIS. She was happy. She loved and was loved. (SMITH _turns and looks at her_.) And then in a second comes Fate with its cruel shears---- SMITH. (_Interrupting her_) Excuse me, but do you write for the Sunday papers? PHYLLIS. No, but I have been listening lately to a great number of election speeches. SMITH. I quite understand. From them those flowers of eloquence were culled. Please go on. PHYLLIS. Celia bore the blow with remarkable courage. But now comes your _visit_, which will upset her even more than the news of Colonel Smith's death itself. SMITH. Yes, Miss Faraday, I am quite sure that it will do that. You have made an appeal to me to deliver my harrowing message as delicately as I can. You can help me not to make mistakes. PHYLLIS. How? SMITH. By telling me where the lovers met, when they became engaged--and how it all happened. PHYLLIS. But you came with Colonel Smith's card and words of recommendation written upon it by his failing hand. Didn't he tell you? SMITH. Well, you see, he was one of those great-hearted men who never speak about themselves. And towards the end, when he might have spoken, he was singularly comatose. PHYLLIS. (_Sympathetically_) Poor fellow! SMITH. Oh, it's dreadful--dreadful! I suppose your sister was very devoted to him? PHYLLIS. She _adored_ him!! SMITH. Yes. That's the part I understand best. PHYLLIS. But Celia's engagement meant more to her than it would to most women. SMITH. (_Recoils slightly_) Why? PHYLLIS. It had somehow got into everybody's head that Celia didn't--(_Looks around room_)--attract people. Poor old Celia. (SMITH _turns uneasily in chair_.) Of course, her engagement altered the whole position. SMITH. Oh, I begin to see. PHYLLIS. It was the night that _I_ had just announced my engagement to Mr. Tarver.--Bobby was so witty about poor old Celia having to wear _another_ pair of Green Stockings at _my_ wedding---- SMITH. Ah--h-- Then there are other sisters?