MRS. DOT. Yes. GERALD. Really? MRS. DOT. No, of course not. GERALD. Thanks. MRS. DOT. Oh, you needn’t take it as a compliment. I’d much sooner have to deal with a clever knave than an honest fool. GERALD. Won’t you say that you bear me no ill-will? MRS. DOT. No. GERALD. I really must go to the War Office. MRS. DOT. Very well, you can go. GERALD. Won’t you come with me? MRS. DOT. No. GERALD. I’m afraid you’ll get rather bored here. [_He rings the bell, and_ CHARLES _comes in_. CHARLES. Yes, my lord. GERALD. I want my hat and coat. [CHARLES _goes out_. MRS. DOT. Do you care for Nellie Sellenger? GERALD. If you don’t mind, I won’t answer that question. Unless she asks for her freedom, I propose to marry her. [CHARLES _brings in the hat and coat_. MRS. DOT _watches him while he puts them on_. GERALD. Good-bye. [_He goes out._ MRS. DOT _turns round and faces_ CHARLES. MRS. DOT. Charles, have you ever been married? CHARLES. Twice, madam. MRS. DOT. And has experience taught you that when a woman wants a thing she generally gets it? CHARLES. [_With a sigh._] It has, madam. MRS. DOT. That is my opinion, too, Charles. [_She goes out._ CHARLES _begins to clear the tea things away_. END OF THE FIRST ACT THE SECOND ACT _The terrace of_ MRS. DOT’S _house on the River. There are masses of rose trees in full flower. At the back is the house, covered with creepers._ _A table is set out for luncheon, with four chairs._ MISS MACGREGOR _is sitting in a garden chair, sewing. She is an elderly, quiet woman, thin, somewhat angular, good-humoured and amiable._ MRS. DOT _is walking up and down impatiently_. AUNT ELIZA. My dear, why don’t you sit down and rest yourself? I’m sure you’ve walked at least ten miles up and down this terrace. MRS. DOT. I’m in a temper. AUNT ELIZA. That must be obvious to the meanest intelligence. MRS. DOT. Have you read the paper to-day? AUNT ELIZA. I’ve tried to, but as you’ve spent most of the morning in stamping on it, I haven’t had much success. MRS. DOT. Then I beg you to listen to this: [_Taking up a “Morning Post” and reading it._] A marriage has been arranged between Lord Hollington and Eleanor, only daughter of the late General Sir Robert Sellenger. [_She crumples up the paper and stamps on it._ AUNT ELIZA. That’s the twenty-third time you’ve read this announcement to me. I assure you that it’s beginning to lose its novelty. MRS. DOT. You can’t deny that it’s rather annoying to take up your paper in the morning and discover an official announcement that the man you’ve made up your mind to marry is taking serious steps to marry somebody else. AUNT ELIZA. But would you tell me why you want to marry him? MRS. DOT. Why does anybody ever want to marry anybody? AUNT ELIZA. That is a question to which during the fifty-five years of my life I’ve been totally unable to discover an answer.