[ROBERT ROOPE, _seated at the writing-table, is sealing a letter._ NOYES _enters at the door on the left, followed by_ PHILIP MACKWORTH. NOYES. [_Announcing_ PHILIP.] Mr. Mackworth. ROOPE. [_A simple-looking gentleman of fifty, scrupulously attired--jumping up and shaking hands warmly with_ PHILIP _as the servant withdraws._] My dear Phil! PHILIP. [_A negligently--almost shabbily--dressed man in his late thirties, with a handsome but worn face._] My dear Robbie! ROOPE. A triumph, to have dragged you out! [_Looking at his watch._] Luncheon isn't till a quarter-to-two. I asked you for half-past-one because I want to have a quiet little jaw with you beforehand. PHILIP. Delightful. ROOPE. Er--I'd better tell you at once, old chap, whom you'll meet here to-day. PHILIP. Aha! Your tone presages a most distinguished guest. [_Seating himself in the chair by the small table._] Is she a _grande-duchesse_, or is he a crowned head? ROOPE. [_Smiling rather uneasily._] Wait. I work up to my great effect by degrees. We shall only be six. Collingham Green---- PHILIP. [_In disgust._] Oh, lord! ROOPE. Now, Phil, don't be naughty. PHILIP. The fellow who does the Society gossip for the _Planet_! ROOPE. And does it remarkably neatly, in my opinion. PHILIP. Pouah! [_Leaning back in his chair, his legs outstretched, and spouting._] "Mrs. Trevelyan Potter, wearing a gown of yellow charmeuse exquisitely draped with chiffon, gave a dance for her niece Miss Hermione Stubbs at the Ritz Hotel last night." That sort o' stuff! ROOPE. [_Pained._] _Somebody_ has to supply it. PHILIP. "Pretty Mrs. Claud Grymes came on from the opera in her pearls, and Lady Beakly looked younger than her daughter in blue." ROOPE. [_Ruefully._] You don't grow a bit more reasonable, Phil; not a bit. PHILIP. I beg pardon. Go ahead. ROOPE. [_Sitting on the fauteuil-stool._] Mrs. Godfrey Anslow and Mrs. Wally Quebec. Abuse _them_. PHILIP. Bless their innocent hearts! _They'll_ be glad to meet Mr. Green. ROOPE. I trust so. PHILIP. [_Scowling._] A couple of pushing, advertising women. ROOPE. Really----! PHILIP. Ha, ha! Sorry. That's five, with you and me. ROOPE.