VIDA. [_Has finished her talk with_ JOHN, _and breaks in on_ SIR WILFRID, _who has hung about_ CYNTHIA _too long to suit her._] To-morrow at twelve, Sir Wilfrid! SIR WILFRID. Twelve! VIDA. [_Shaking hands with_ JOHN.] Don't forget, Mr. Karslake--eleven o'clock to-morrow. JOHN. [_Bowing assent._] I won't! VIDA. [_Coming over to_ CYNTHIA.] Oh, Mrs. Karslake, I've ordered Tiffany to send you something. It's a sugar-bowl to sweeten the matrimonial lot! I suppose nothing would induce you to call? CYNTHIA. [_Distantly and careless of offending._] Thanks, no--that is, is "Cynthia K" really to be there at eleven? I'd give a gold mine to see her again. VIDA. Do come! CYNTHIA. If Mr. Karslake will accommodate me by his absence. VIDA. Dear Mr. Karslake, you'll have to change your hour. JOHN. Sorry, I'm not able to. CYNTHIA. I can't come later for I'm to be married. JOHN. It's not as bad as that with me, but I am to be sold up--Sheriff, you know. Can't come later than eleven. VIDA. [_To_ CYNTHIA.] Any hour but eleven, dear. CYNTHIA. [_Perfectly regardless of_ VIDA, _and ready to vex_ JOHN _if possible._] Mrs. Phillimore, I shall call on you at eleven--to see Cynthia K. I thank you for the invitation. Good-afternoon. VIDA. [_Aside to_ JOHN, _crossing to speak quietly to him._] It's mere bravado; she won't come. JOHN. You don't know her. _There is a pause and general embarrassment._ SIR WILFRID _uses his eye-glass._ JOHN _angry._ CYNTHIA _triumphant._ MATTHEW _embarrassed._ VIDA _irritated._ PHILIP _puzzled. Everybody is at odds._ SIR WILFRID. [_For the first time a witness to the pretty complications of divorce. To_ MATTHEW.] Do you have it as warm as this ordinarily? MATTHEW. [_For whom these moments are more than usually painful, and wiping his brow._] It's not so much the heat as the humidity. JOHN. [_Looks at watch and, relieved, glad to be off._] I shall be late for my creditors' dinner. SIR WILFRID. [_Interested and walking toward_ JOHN.] Creditors' dinner. JOHN. [_Reading the note._] Fifteen of my sporting creditors have arranged to give me a blow-out at Sherry's, and I'm expected right away or sooner. And, by the way, I was to bring my friends--if I had any. So now's the time to stand by me! Mrs. Phillimore? VIDA. Of course! JOHN. [_Ready to embarrass_ CYNTHIA, _if possible, and speaking as if he had quite forgotten their former relations._] Mrs. Karslake--I beg your pardon. Judge? [PHILIP _declines._] No? Sir Wilfrid? SIR WILFRID. I'm with you! JOHN. [_To_ MATTHEW.] Your Grace? MATTHEW. I regret-- SIR WILFRID. Is it the custom for creditors-- JOHN. Come on, Sir Wilfrid! [THOMAS _opens door._] Good-night, Judge--Your Grace-- SIR WILFRID. Is it the custom-- JOHN. Hang the custom! Come on--I'll show you a gang of creditors worth having!