MRS. ERLYNNE. What a nice speech! So simple and so sincere! Just the sort of speech I like. Well, you shall hold my bouquet. [_Goes towards ball-room on_ LORD WINDERMERE’S _arm_.] Ah, Mr. Dumby, how are you? I am so sorry I have been out the last three times you have called. Come and lunch on Friday. DUMBY. [_With perfect nonchalance_.] Delighted! [LADY PLYMDALE _glares with indignation at_ MR. DUMBY. LORD AUGUSTUS _follows_ MRS. ERLYNNE _and_ LORD WINDERMERE _into the ball-room holding bouquet_.] LADY PLYMDALE. [_To_ MR. DUMBY.] What an absolute brute you are! I never can believe a word you say! Why did you tell me you didn’t know her? What do you mean by calling on her three times running? You are not to go to lunch there; of course you understand that? DUMBY. My dear Laura, I wouldn’t dream of going! LADY PLYMDALE. You haven’t told me her name yet! Who is she? DUMBY. [_Coughs slightly and smooths his hair_.] She’s a Mrs. Erlynne. LADY PLYMDALE. That woman! DUMBY. Yes; that is what every one calls her. LADY PLYMDALE. How very interesting! How intensely interesting! I really must have a good stare at her. [_Goes to door of ball-room and looks in_.] I have heard the most shocking things about her. They say she is ruining poor Windermere. And Lady Windermere, who goes in for being so proper, invites her! How extremely amusing! It takes a thoroughly good woman to do a thoroughly stupid thing. You are to lunch there on Friday! DUMBY. Why? LADY PLYMDALE. Because I want you to take my husband with you. He has been so attentive lately, that he has become a perfect nuisance. Now, this woman is just the thing for him. He’ll dance attendance upon her as long as she lets him, and won’t bother me. I assure you, women of that kind are most useful. They form the basis of other people’s marriages. DUMBY. What a mystery you are! LADY PLYMDALE. [_Looking at him_.] I wish _you_ were! DUMBY. I am—to myself. I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly; but I don’t see any chance of it just at present. [_They pass into the ball-room_, _and_ LADY WINDERMERE _and_ LORD DARLINGTON _enter from the terrace_.] LADY WINDERMERE. Yes. Her coming here is monstrous, unbearable. I know now what you meant to-day at tea-time. Why didn’t you tell me right out? You should have! LORD DARLINGTON. I couldn’t! A man can’t tell these things about another man! But if I had known he was going to make you ask her here to-night, I think I would have told you. That insult, at any rate, you would have been spared.