FIDDLER _walks in. He is an English horse trainer, a wide-awake, stocky, well-groomed little cockney. He knows his own mind and sees life altogether through a stable door. Well-dressed for his station, and not too young._ CYNTHIA. [_Excited and disturbed._] Fiddler? Tim Fiddler? His coming is outrageous! FIDDLER. A note for you, sir. CYNTHIA. [_Impulsively._] Oh, Fiddler--is that you? FIDDLER. Yes'm! CYNTHIA. [_In a half whisper, still speaking on impulse._] How is she! Cynthia K? How's Planet II and the colt and Golden Rod? How's the whole stable? Are they well? FIDDLER. No'm--we're all on the bum. [_Aside._] Ever since you kicked us over! CYNTHIA. [_Reproving him, though pleased._] Fiddler! FIDDLER. The horses is just simply gone to Egypt since you left, and so's the guv'nor. CYNTHIA. [_Putting an end to_ FIDDLER.] That will do, Fiddler. FIDDLER. I'm waiting for an answer, sir. CYNTHIA. What is it, Philip? PHILIP. [_Uncomfortable._] A mere matter of business. [_Aside to_ FIDDLER.] The answer is, Mr. Karslake can come. The--the coast will be clear. [FIDDLER _goes out._ CYNTHIA. [_Amazed; rising._] You're not going to see him? PHILIP. But Karslake, my dear, is an old acquaintance of mine. He argues cases before me. I will see that you do not have to meet him. [CYNTHIA _walks the length of the room in excited dejection._ MATTHEW _comes in. He is a High-church clergyman to a highly fashionable congregation. His success is partly due to his social position and partly to his elegance of speech, but chiefly to his inherent amiability, which leaves the sinner in happy peace and smiles on the just and unjust alike._ MATTHEW. [_Most amiably._] Ah, my dear brother! PHILIP. [_Greeting him._] Matthew. MATTHEW. [_Nodding to_ PHILIP.] Good afternoon, my dear Cynthia. How charming you look! [CYNTHIA _sits down at the tea-table. To_ CYNTHIA.] Ah, why weren't you in your pew yesterday? I preached a most original sermon. [_He lays his hat and cane on the divan._ THOMAS. [_Aside to_ PHILIP.] Sir, Mrs. Vida Phillimore's maid called you up on the telephone, and you're to expect Mrs. Phillimore on a matter of business. PHILIP. [_Astonished and disgusted._] Here, impossible! [_To_ CYNTHIA.] Excuse me, my dear! [PHILIP, _much embarrassed, goes out, followed by_ THOMAS.