[She stops and buts her finger to her lips, for JOY is coming towards them, as the tea-bell sounds. She is followed by DICK and MISS BEECH with the Eau de Cologne. The COLONEL and MRS. HOPE are also coming back, discussing still each other's point of view.] JOY. Where 's Mother? Isn't she here? MRS. HOPE. Now Joy, come and sit down; your mother's been told tea's ready; if she lets it get cold it's her lookout. DICK. [Producing a rug, and spreading it beneath the tree.] Plenty of room, Joy. JOY. I don't believe Mother knows, Aunt Nell. [MRS. GWYN and LEVER appear in the opening of the wall.] LETTY. [Touching ERNEST's arm.] Look, Ernie! Four couples and Peachey---- ERNEST. [Preoccupied.] What couples? JOY. Oh! Mums, here you are! [Seizing her, she turns her back on LEVER. They sit in various seats, and MRS. HOPE pours out the tea.] MRS. HOPE. Hand the sandwiches to Mr. Lever, Peachey. It's our own jam, Mr. Lever. LEVER. Thanks. [He takes a bite.] It's splendid! MRS. GWYN. [With forced gaiety.] It's the first time I've ever seen you eat jam. LEVER. [Smiling a forced smile.] Really! But I love it. MRS. GWYN. [With a little bow.] You always refuse mine. JOY. [Who has been staring at her enemy, suddenly.] I'm all burnt up! Are n't you simply boiled, Mother? [She touches her Mother's forehead.] MRS. GWYN. Ugh! You're quite clammy, Joy. JOY. It's enough to make any one clammy. [Her eyes go back to LEVER'S face as though to stab him.] ERNEST. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the glass is going down. LEVER. [Suavely.] The glass in the hall's steady enough. ERNEST. Oh, I never go by that; that's a rotten old glass. COLONEL. Oh! is it? ERNEST. [Paying no attention.] I've got a little ripper--never puts you in the cart. Bet you what you like we have thunder before tomorrow night. MISS BEECH. [Removing her gaze from JOY to LEVER.] You don't think we shall have it before to-night, do you? LEVER. [Suavely.] I beg your pardon; did you speak to me? MISS BEECH. I said, you don't think we shall have the thunder before to-night, do you? [She resumes her watch on joy.] LEVER. [Blandly.] Really, I don't see any signs of it. [Joy, crossing to the rug, flings herself down. And DICK sits cross-legged, with his eyes fast fixed on her.] MISS BEECH. [Eating.] People don't often see what they don't want to, do they? [LEVER only lifts his brows.] MRS. GWYN. [Quickly breaking ivy.] What are you talking about? The weather's perfect. MISS BEECH. Isn't it? MRS. HOPE. You'd better make a good tea, Peachey; nobody'll get anything till eight, and then only cold shoulder. You must just put up with no hot dinner, Mr. Lever. LEVER. [Bowing.] Whatever is good enough for Miss Beech is good enough for me. MISS BEECH. [Sardonically-taking another sandwich.] So you think!