(_He doubles up with laughter. LADY PATRICIA and MICHAEL regard him in silent amazement and consternation._) LADY PATRICIA. (_To MICHAEL._) I’m afraid he’s—— (_Touches her forehead._) MICHAEL. Good God!... LADY PATRICIA. (_Gently._) Don’t you think it’s better you went now, Baldwin? BALDWIN. Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! MICHAEL. You ought to stay in bed to-morrow. BALDWIN. Bed, sir?... LADY PATRICIA. Or sit quietly in the sweet sunshine at your cottage door. BALDWIN. Yes’m.... LADY PATRICIA. Good-night, Baldwin. BALDWIN. Good-night, mum. Good-night, sir. (_He walks stolidly to the ladder on the left; then, just before descending, starts once more guffawing and continues as he descends. LADY PATRICIA and MICHAEL look at each other in pitying astonishment._) LADY PATRICIA. Poor old man! I fear he is breaking up at last! MICHAEL. God forgive me, dearest; I thought he had been drinking. LADY PATRICIA. Let us make the twilight of his long day full of peace and fragrance. MICHAEL. He shall never want. (_A nightingale begins its song in the distance._) LADY PATRICIA. Ah, listen! Ah, listen, dear heart! MICHAEL. The nightingale. LADY PATRICIA. We have not far to go, you and I, to reach that land where music and moonlight and feeling are one! MICHAEL. Music and moonlight and feeling—— LADY PATRICIA. Are one.... MICHAEL. Sweet bird! (_A pause. They listen “emparadised in one another’s arms.”_) LADY PATRICIA. But where have you been, dearest? For the last half-hour I have been looking for you down shadowy paths and by moonlit waters. MICHAEL. And I for you. LADY PATRICIA. Cousin Bill went indoors as he had something he wished to say to his mother. So I seized the opportunity to find _you_. MICHAEL. Miss Lesley left me to speak to her father—and I thought I would snatch a beautiful moment with my wife. LADY PATRICIA. Cousin Bill said he would come back to me in a moment. MICHAEL. Miss Lesley too. I’m afraid they may be hunting for us. LADY PATRICIA. Poor children! But they will forgive us when they know we have been together—and so happy. Tell me, dear, why were you looking so fixedly up the tree when I came just now? (_MICHAEL looks apprehensively towards the tree._) MICHAEL. I—I was looking for a nightingale. LADY PATRICIA. A nightingale?... MICHAEL. Yes. LADY PATRICIA. I thought for a moment some one had climbed the tree, as you seemed to be speaking up into it. MICHAEL. I was making fluting sounds so as to encourage the bird to sing. LADY PATRICIA. How clever of you, dear! And now it’s singing in the bushes near the pond. MICHAEL. Perhaps I frightened it out of the tree. LADY PATRICIA. Perhaps you did.... Darling. MICHAEL. Yes? LADY PATRICIA.