GERALD. [_Smiling._] I oughtn’t to yet. MRS. DOT. You know, you’ve got to marry me. I insist upon it. After all, you’ve been trifling with my affections shamefully. Oh, we shall be so happy, Gerald. And we’ll never grow any older than we are now. You know, I’m an awfully good sort, really. I talk a lot of nonsense, but I don’t mean it. I very seldom listen to it myself. I’m sick of society. I want to settle down and be domesticated. I’ll sit at home and darn your socks. And I shall hate it, and I shall be so happy. And if you want to be independent you can have a job at the brewery. We want a smart energetic man to keep us up to the times. And we’ll have a lovely box at the opera, and you can always get away for the shooting. [_A ring is heard._ GERALD. There they are. MRS. DOT. Good heavens! I quite forgot about those wretched people in there. [_She opens the door of the dining-room._ MRS. DOT. I don’t want to disturb you, but if you’ve quite finished your conversation perhaps you’d like to come and have tea. [BLENKINSOP _and_ FREDDIE _come in and go to the fire_. BLENKINSOP. I observe with interest that your remark is facetious. FREDDIE. I’m simply freezing. MRS. DOT. You didn’t mind being shut up in there, did you? BLENKINSOP. Not at all. I rather like sitting in an arctic room without a fire, with a window looking on a blank wall, and the society of your nephew and the _Sporting Times_ of the week before last as my only means of entertainment. [CHARLES _enters to announce the_ SELLENGERS. _He goes out and brings in the tea._ CHARLES. Lady and Miss Sellenger. [_Enter_ LADY SELLENGER _and_ NELLIE. LADY SELLENGER _is a pompous woman of fifty, stout, alert and clever_. NELLIE _is very pretty and graceful, and fashionably gowned. She appears to be much under her mother’s influence._ LADY SELLENGER. How d’you do? Ah, Mrs. Worthley! Delightful! GERALD. [_Shaking hands._] How d’you do? I think you know Mr. Blenkinsop? LADY SELLENGER. Of course. But I don’t approve of him. BLENKINSOP. Why not? LADY SELLENGER. Because you’re a cynic, a millionaire, and a bachelor. And no man has the right to be all three. MRS. DOT. And how did you like Italy? LADY SELLENGER. A grossly over-rated place. So many marriageable daughters and so few eligible men. GERALD. [_Introducing._] Mr. Perkins, Lady Sellenger--Miss Sellenger. MRS. DOT. My nephew and my secretary. LADY SELLENGER. Really. How very interesting! Almost romantic. FREDDIE. How d’you do? LADY SELLENGER. Dear Mrs. Worthley, what a charming gown! You always wear such--striking things. MRS. DOT. It advertises the beer, don’t you know. LADY SELLENGER. I wish I could drink it, Mrs. Worthley, but it’s so fattening. I understand you always have it on your table. MRS. DOT. I think that’s the least I can do, as it’s only on account of the beer that I can have a table at all. NELLIE.