Gerald! Gerald! Don’t! Pull yourself together. The poor boy, he’s perfectly hysterical. Where are my salts? Mrs. Dot, for heaven’s sake calm him down. Oh, my dear! You mustn’t upset yourself yet. BLENKINSOP. He looks cut up, doesn’t he? LADY SELLENGER. We’ll pursue them. There’s no harm done yet. We’ll catch them. I promise you we’ll catch them. You shall marry her, Gerald, if I have to drag her to church by the hair of her head. [_At this he stops suddenly and stares at her in dismay._ GERALD. What are you going to do? LADY SELLENGER. We must chase them. Where’s your motor, Mr. Blenkinsop? Didn’t you tell me it was the fastest machine in England? BLENKINSOP. I did say something of the sort. LADY SELLENGER. We shall catch them up. Gerald, you must drive me. I can’t trust any one else to go fast enough. MRS. DOT. But you don’t know which way they’ve gone. LADY SELLENGER. Don’t be so silly. Of course they’ve gone to Brighton. When people elope they always go to Brighton. [MRS. DOT _slips out of the room_. GERALD. And what’ll you do if we come up to them? You can’t force them to come back. LADY SELLENGER. If a woman can’t force her daughter to marry any man she chooses, I don’t know what the English nation is coming to. GERALD. I won’t marry the girl against her will. LADY SELLENGER. Fiddlededee! Of course you’ll marry her. Who is this creature she’s run away with? Perkins! Perkins with a P. I never heard anything so ridiculous. Do you suppose my daughter is going to be Mrs. Perkins--Perkins with a P? BLENKINSOP. You couldn’t very well spell it with a W could you? LADY SELLENGER. Hold your impudent tongue, sir! GERALD. Now, let’s have this out and be done with it. I’m no more in love with Nellie than she is with me, I was going to marry her because I’d promised to, and it seemed a low down trick to draw back.... LADY SELLENGER. The man’s mad. The shock has turned his brain. GERALD. When I heard she’d bolted, I could have jumped for joy. I seem to have awaked out of a ghastly nightmare. Nothing will induce me to try and catch her up. LADY SELLENGER. You monster! How dare you trifle with the affections of my daughter! You don’t mean to stand by and see her marry a man called Perkins! GERALD. I wouldn’t even mind if she married a man called Vere de Vere. LADY SELLENGER. Very well, then, the chauffeur shall drive me. You’re a heartless brute. Perkins with a P. And penniless to boot. [_She flounces out of the room and bangs the door._ GERALD. Where’s Mrs. Dot? [_He goes into the garden._ BLENKINSOP. What a charming mother-in-law that woman will make! [MRS. DOT _comes in with a large kitchen knife in one hand and a poker in the other_. MRS. DOT. I’ve done it! BLENKINSOP. Done what? MRS. DOT. Lady Sellenger thinks she’s going in your motor, but she isn’t. BLENKINSOP. [_Starting up._] What have you done to my motor? MRS. DOT.