FRASER _is seated upon the settee_. JOHN ALLINGHAM _appears in the garden, looks into the room, glares fiercely at_ FRASER, _coughs significantly, and walks away. When_ JOHN _has gone_, FRASER, _glancing at the window, rises, and, with an angry exclamation, crosses the room_. MRS. CLOYS _and_ JUSTINA _enter_; MRS. CLOYS _is dressed as in the previous Acts, but without her bonnet and mantle_; JUSTINA _is in a bright morning-dress_. MRS. CLOYS. [_To_ FRASER.] She insists upon rising; she will see you in a few minutes. FRASER. Thank you. MRS. CLOYS. She is excessively weak and shattered; you must remember that. FRASER. Yes, yes. I can never adequately express my gratitude—— MRS. CLOYS. [_Sitting upon the settee._] Tsch! JUSTINA. Aunt has been up with her the whole night. MRS. CLOYS. Not alone. Mrs. Allingham—— FRASER. Mrs. Allingham——? MRS. CLOYS. Mrs. Allingham begged to be allowed to keep me company. There was a little scene between us—but the woman is, to some extent, human, I find. FRASER. Oh, I’ve no doubt that Mrs. Allingham is ashamed of herself—— MRS. CLOYS. I hope we are all ashamed of ourselves. In the end I was far from sorry to have her companionship. Your poor wife didn’t come out of her swoon till nearly one o’clock this morning. Then Dr. Erskine went home and Mrs. Allingham and I took our places by the bedside—[_to_ JUSTINA]—till you arrived at breakfast-time, Justina. JUSTINA. [_To_ FRASER.] And I brought old Sarah, who used to maid us girls when Theo was at home; she’s dressing her now. FRASER. Mrs. Cloys, pray help me with your advice. MRS. CLOYS. [_Bridling._] Oh—h—h——! FRASER. No, no—about Mr. Allingham. Ha! of course if we were Frenchmen we should fight a duel—— JUSTINA. Certainly, my dear Alec, and he would kill you. FRASER. Perhaps; that doesn’t follow. JUSTINA. It doesn’t follow, because it can’t follow. But he _would_ kill you and everybody would say of you, “Serve him right; another unsatisfactory husband disposed of!” And you would be buried, and my sister would be free and would go to Trouville in August in her weeds, and we should all have a splendid time generally. FRASER. [_Dryly._] If we were French. JUSTINA. Yes. [_Going to the window._] Why aren’t we French! MRS. CLOYS. Justina——!