SCENE, _same as Act II_. _BELVAWNEY discovered with MISS TREHERNE and MINNIE. He is singing to them. MISS TREHERNE is leaning romantically on piano. MINNIE is seated on a stool._ BEL. (_sings_). “Says the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah, I am drier, Obadiah, I am drier.” CHORUS. “I am drier.” BEL. “Says the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah, I’m on fire, Obadiah, I’m on fire.” CHORUS. “I’m on fire.” _Min._ Oh, thank you, Mr. Belvawney. How sweetly pretty that is. Where can I get it? _Miss T._ How marvellous is the power of melody over the soul that is fretted and harassed by anxiety and doubt. I can understand how valuable must have been the troubadours of old, in the troublous times of anarchy. Your song has soothed me, sir. _Bel._ I am indeed glad to think that I have comforted you a little, dear ladies. _Min._ Dear Mr. Belvawney, I don’t know what we should have done without you. What with your sweet songs, your amusing riddles, and your clever conjuring tricks, the weary days of waiting have passed like a delightful dream. _Miss T._ It is impossible to be dull in the society of one who can charm the soul with plaintive ballads one moment, and the next roll a rabbit and a guinea-pig into one. _Bel._ You make me indeed happy, dear ladies. But my joy will be of brief duration, for Cheviot may return at any moment with the news that the fatal cottage was in Scotland, and then--Oh, Belinda, what is to become of me? _Miss T._ How many issues depend on that momentous question? Has Belvawney a thousand a year, or is he ruined? Has your father that convenient addition to his income, or has he not? May Maggie marry Angus, or will her claim on Cheviot be satisfied? Are you to be his cherished bride, or are you destined to a life of solitary maidenhood? Am I Cheviot’s honoured wife, or am I but a broken-hearted and desolate spinster? Who can tell! Who can tell! [_Crosses to MINNIE._ _Bel._ (_goes to window in second drawing-room_). Here is a cab with luggage--it is Cheviot! He has returned with the news! Ladies--one word before I go. One of you will be claimed by Cheviot, that is very clear. To that one (whichever it may be) I do not address myself--but to the other (whichever it may be), I say, I love you (whichever you are) with a fervour which I cannot describe in words. If you (whichever you are) will consent to cast your lot with mine, I will devote my life to proving that I love you and you only (whichever it may be) with a single-hearted and devoted passion, which precludes the possibility of my ever entertaining the slightest regard for any other woman in the whole world. I thought I would just mention it. Good morning! [_Exit BELVAWNEY._ _Miss T._ How beautifully he expresses himself. He is indeed a rare and radiant being. _Min._ (_nervously_). Oh, Belinda, the terrible moment is at hand.