VIDA. [_Agreeing very softly._] Under a rose-bush! [_There is a very soft knock at which_ JOHN _starts up quickly._] Come! [BROOKS _comes in, with_ BENSON _close at his heels._ BROOKS. [_Stolid, announces._] My lady--Sir Wilf-- [BENSON _stops him with a sharp movement and turns toward_ VIDA. BENSON. [_With intention._] Your dressmaker, ma'am. [BENSON _waves_ BROOKS _to go and_ BROOKS _very haughtily complies._ VIDA. [_Wonderingly._] My dressmaker, Benson? [_With quick intelligence._] Oh, of course, show her up. Mr. Karslake, you won't mind for a few minutes using my men's club-room? Benson will show you! You'll find cigars and the ticker, sporting papers, whiskey; and, if you want anything special, just 'phone down to my "chef." JOHN. [_Looking at his watch._] How long? VIDA. [_Very anxious to please._] Half a cigar! Benson will call you. JOHN. [_Practically-minded._] Don't make it too long. You see, there's my sheriff's sale on at twelve, and those races this afternoon. Fiddler will be here in ten minutes, remember! [_The door opens._ VIDA. [_To_ JOHN.] Run along! [JOHN _leaves and_ VIDA, _instantly practical, makes a broad gesture to_ BENSON.] Everything just as it was, Benson! [BENSON _whisks the roses out of the vase and replaces them in the box. She gives_ VIDA _scissors and empty vases, and, when_ VIDA _finds herself in precisely the same position which preceded_ JOHN'S _entrance, she says:_] There! [BROOKS _comes in as_ VIDA _takes a rose from basket._ BROOKS. [_With characteristic stolidness._] Your ladyship's dressmaker! M'lady! [_Enter_ SIR WILFRID _in morning suit, boutonniere, &c._ VIDA. [_With tender surprise and busy with the roses._] Is that really you, Sir Wilfrid! I never flattered myself for an instant that you'd remember to come. SIR WILFRID. [_Moving to the head of the sofa._] Come? 'Course I come! Keen to come see you. By Jove, you know, you look as pink and white as a huntin' mornin'. VIDA. [_Ready to make any man as happy as possible._] You'll smoke? SIR WILFRID. Thanks! [_He watches her as she trims and arranges the flowers._] Awfully long fingers you have! Wish I was a rose, or a ring, or a pair of shears! I say, d'you ever notice what a devil of a fellow I am for originality, what? [_Unlike_ JOHN, _is evidently impressed by her._] You've got a delicate little den up here! Not so much low livin' and high thinkin', as low lights and no thinkin' at all, I hope--eh? [_By this time_, VIDA _has filled a vase with roses and rises to sweep by him and, if possible, make another charming picture to his eyes._ VIDA. [_Gliding gracefully past him._] You don't mind my moving about? SIR WILFRID. [_Impressed._] Not if you don't mind my watchin'. [_Sitting down on the sofa._] And sayin' how wel you do it. VIDA. It's most original of you to come here this morning. I don't quite see why you did.