_Mrs. R._ Thank you, _I_ don't require a calendar. To-day is the twenty-third--the day you and I were married. [_Sighs._ _Jack._ 'Pon my word I believe you're right. The twenty-third--so it is! [_He becomes silent._ _Mrs. R._ (_to herself, as the "Wedding March" continues jubilantly_). He _is_ ashamed of himself. I _knew_ he would be--only he doesn't quite know how to tell me so; he will presently.... I wish I could see his face.... If he is only sorry enough, I _think_ I shall forgive him. JACK! (_Softly._) JACK dear! (_A prolonged snore from the arm-chair. She goes to him and touches his arm._) You had better go down-stairs and have your cigar, hadn't you? It may keep you awake! (_Bitterly._) _Jack_ (_opening his eyes_). Eh?--oh! Well, if you're sure you don't mind being alone, I rather think I will. _Mrs. R._ I should infinitely _prefer_ being alone--I am so used to it. [_Exit JACK, as the "Wedding March" comes to a triumphant conclusion._ THIRD ANNIVERSARY--1895. _SAME SCENE. TIME, 11:30 P.M. MRS. MANDOLINE DISCOVERED WITH HER DAUGHTER._ _Mrs. M._ Nearly twelve, and JACK not in yet--on this of all days, too! VIOLA, you will be weak, _culpably_ weak, if you don't speak to him, very seriously, when he _does_ come in. _Mrs. R._ (_ruefully_). I _can't_, Mother. We're not on speaking terms just now, you know. _Mrs. M._ Then I _shall_. Fortunately, _I_ am on speaking terms with him--as he will find out! (_A ring._) There he is, at last! Go, my poor darling, leave me to bring him to a sense of his disgraceful conduct. (_Mrs. R. retires by the back drawing-room._) How shall I begin? Ah, poor JOHN'S phonograph! How lucky _I_ remembered it! (_Selecting a cylinder._) There, if _anything_ can pierce his hard heart, _that_ will! [_Winds up machine, which breaks into a merry marriage peal as JACK enters in evening dress._ _Jack_ (_sullenly_). Now just look here, VIOLA--(_recognising Mrs. M._) Hullo, the Mum! _Mrs. M._ (_raising her voice above the clamour_). Mum no longer, Sir. Do you hear those bells? _Jack_. _Do I hear those bells?_ Am I deaf? The whole Parish can hear them, I should think! _Mrs. M._ I don't care if they do. I want to touch your conscience, if I can, and I still hope--bad as you are--that when the voices of those bells--so long silent--rung in anticipation of such a very different future--fall upon your ear once more, they may--