MR. AMY. There is an engraving of Rivaulx in that Copperplate Magazine we were looking at. (_He turns up the page._) I have got it, Rivaulx. (_He brightens._) Why, this is funny. It is an engraving of that very picture. Hello, hello, hello. (_Examining it through his private glass._) And it is signed E. Dayes. (_MR. MORLAND holds the sketch so close to him that it brushes his eyelashes._) I wouldn’t eat it, James. So it is by Dayes, the drawing-master, after all. I am sorry you have had this disappointment. (_MRS. MORLAND taps warningly, but her husband is now possessed._) MR. MORLAND. You sixty-six, Mr. Amy, you sixty-six! MR. AMY. James, this is very painful. Your chagrin I can well understand, but surely your sense of manhood--I regret that I have out-stayed my welcome. I bid you good afternoon. Thank you, Mrs. Morland, for your unvarying hospitality. MRS. MORLAND. I shall see you into your coat, George. MR. AMY. It is very kind of you, but I need no one to see me into my coat. MR. MORLAND. You will never see your way into it by yourself. (_This unworthy remark is perhaps not heard, for MRS. MORLAND succeeds once more in bringing the guest back._) MR. AMY. James, I cannot leave this friendly house in wrath. MR. MORLAND. I am an irascible old beggar, George. What I should do without you---- MR. AMY. Or I without you. Or either of us without that little old dear, to whom we are a never-failing source of mirth. (_The little old dear curtseys, looking very frail as she does so._) Tell Simon when he comes that I shall be in to see him to-morrow. Good-bye, Fanny; I suppose you think of the pair of us as in our second childhood? MRS. MORLAND. Not your second, George. I have never known any men who have quite passed their first. (_He goes smiling._) MR. MORLAND (_ruminating by the fire_). He is a good fellow, George, but how touchy he is about his age. And he has a way of tottering off to sleep while one is talking to him. MRS. MORLAND. He is not the only one of us who does that. (_She is standing by the window._) MR. MORLAND. What are you thinking about, Fanny? MRS. MORLAND. I was thinking about the apple-tree, and that you have given the order for its destruction. MR. MORLAND. It must come down. It is becoming a danger, might fall on some one down there any day. MRS. MORLAND. I quite see that it has to go. (_She can speak of MARY ROSE without a tremor now._) But her tree! How often she made it a ladder from this room to the ground. (_MR. MORLAND does not ask who, but he very nearly does so._) MR. MORLAND. Oh yes, of course. Did she use to climb the apple-tree? Yes, I think she did. (_He goes to his wife, as it were for protection._) MRS. MORLAND (_not failing him_). Had you forgotten that also, James? MR. MORLAND. I am afraid I forget a lot of things. MRS. MORLAND. Just as well. MR. MORLAND. It is so long since she--how long is it, Fanny?