PHILIP. [_To_ SIR WILFRID _and referring to the letter of introduction in his hand._] I am Mr. Phillimore. I am grateful to Stanhope for giving me the opportunity of knowing you, Sir Wilfrid. I fear you find it warm? SIR WILFRID. [_Delicately mopping his forehead._] Ah, well--ah--warm, no--hot, yes! Deuced extraordinary climate yours, you know, Mr. Phillimore. PHILIP. [_Conventionally._] Permit me to present you to-- [_The unconventional situation pulls him up short. It takes him a moment to decide how to meet it. He makes up his mind to pretend that everything is as usual, and presents_ CYNTHIA _first._] Mrs. Karslake. [SIR WILFRID _bows, surprised and doubtful._ CYNTHIA. How do you do? PHILIP. And to Mrs. Phillimore. [VIDA _bows nonchalantly, but with a view to catching_ SIR WILFRID'S _attention._ SIR WILFRID _bows, and looks from her to_ PHILIP.] My brother--and Mr. Karslake you know. SIR WILFRID. How do, my boy. [_Half aside, to_ JOHN.] No idea you had such a charming little wife--What?--Eh? [KARSLAKE _moves to speak to_ MATTHEW _and_ PHILIP _in the further room._ CYNTHIA. You'll have a cup of tea, Sir Wilfrid? SIR WILFRID. [_At the table._] Thanks, awfully. [_Very cheerfully._] I'd no idea old John had a wife! The rascal never told me! CYNTHIA. [_Pouring tea and facing the facts._] I'm not Mr. Karslake's wife! SIR WILFRID. Oh!--Eh?--I see-- [_He is evidently trying to think this out._ VIDA. [_Who has been ready for some time to speak to him._] Sir Wilfrid, I'm sure no one has asked you how you like our country? SIR WILFRID. [_Going to_ VIDA _and standing by her at the sofa._] Oh, well, as to climate and horses, I say nothing. But I like your American humour. I'm acquiring it for home purposes. VIDA. [_Getting down to love as the basis of conversation._] Aren't you going to acquire an American girl for home purposes? SIR WILFRID. The more narrowly I look the agreeable project in the face, the more I like it. Oughtn't to say that in the presence of your husband. [_He casts a look at_ PHILIP, _who has gone into the next room._ VIDA. [_Cheerful and unconstrained._] He's not my husband! SIR WILFRID. [_Completely confused._] Oh--eh?--my brain must be boiled. You are--Mrs.--eh--ah--of course, now I see! I got the wrong names! I thought you were Mrs. Phillimore. [_Sitting down by her._] And that nice girl, Mrs. Karslake! You're deucedly lucky to be Mrs. Karslake. John's a prime sort. I say, have you and he got any kids? How many? VIDA. [_Horrified at being suspected of maternity, but speaking very sweetly._] He's not my husband. SIR WILFRID. [_His good spirits all gone, but determined to clear things up._] Phew! Awfully hot in here! Who the deuce is John's wife? VIDA. He hasn't any. SIR WILFRID. Who's Phillimore's wife? VIDA. He hasn't any.