LADY FILSON. From himself? BERTRAM. Presumably; and Dilworth came down and took him up to her boudoir. LADY FILSON. [_Rising._] An unusual time of day for a call! [_Approaching_ BERTRAM _and speaking under her breath._] Are matters coming to a head between them, my dear boy? BERTRAM. Don't ask _me_, mother. [_Rising._] You are as capable of forming an opinion as I am, I mean t'say. LADY FILSON. I've a feeling that _something_ is in the air. He positively shadowed her last night at the Gorhams'! BERTRAM. [_Knitting his brows._] I admit I should prefer, if my sister contemplates marrying again, that her choice fell on one of the others. LADY FILSON. Mr. Trefusis--or George Delacour----? BERTRAM. Even Trevor Wilson. [_Wincing._] The idea of a merchant brother-in-law doesn't appeal to me very strongly, I mean t'say. LADY FILSON. Still, a baronet----! BERTRAM. And I suppose----? LADY FILSON. Oh, enormously! BERTRAM. [_Magnanimously._] Anyhow, my dear mother, if Ottoline is fond of the man, I promise you that not a murmur from me shall mar their happiness. LADY FILSON. [_Tenderly, pinching his chin._] My darling! BERTRAM. [_With a shiver._] I'm afraid I _am_ getting a little chilled; [_giving her the press-cuttings_] I'll go and change. LADY FILSON. Oh, my pet, run away at once! [_She moves to the settee on the right. He pauses to gaze at her._ BERTRAM. You look exceedingly handsome this morning, mother. LADY FILSON. [_Gratified._] Do I, Bertram? [_Seating herself upon the settee, and again applying herself to the press-cuttings, as_ BERTRAM _goes to the glazed door._] In spite of my late hours! BERTRAM. [_Opening the door._] Here's my father---- [SIR RANDLE FILSON _enters, dressed in mourning. He is a man of sixty-three, of commanding presence, with a head resembling that of Alexandre Dumas Fils in the portrait by Meissonier, and a bland, florid manner. He seems to derive much satisfaction from listening to the rich modulations of his voice._ SIR RANDLE. Bertram, my boy! [_Kissing him upon the cheek._] Been riding, eh? BERTRAM. Yes. I'm just going to change, father. SIR RANDLE.