[_Standing behind table._] Perhaps he went back to his office? PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. [_Tartly._] He's much more likely to have dropped into his club for a rubber of Bridge! SYLVIA. Don't you think you're rather ungrateful to grumble at poor Horace like this, after he's given up a whole day's work to oblige you? PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. I was not aware, my dear, that he has, or ever had, a day's work to give up! Correct me if I am wrong--but I am under the impression that nobody has employed him as an architect _yet_. SYLVIA. That isn't Horace's fault! PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. Possibly--but it doesn't make him more desirable as a future son-in-law. SYLVIA. Horace is sure to succeed as soon as he gets a chance. [_Sitting on table and leaning over the PROFESSOR._] If you would only say a word for him to Godfather, he might be able to help him. PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. Wackerbath? No, my dear, I couldn't bring myself to take such an advantage of our old friendship as _that_! I've no belief in Ventimore's succeeding in life. He _may_ have ability--though I'm bound to say I see little _evidence_ of it--but, depend upon it, he'll never make any money! SYLVIA. How _can_ you tell? PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. Because he can't even take care of the little he has! Look at the money he's throwing away on this totally unnecessary dinner to-night! SYLVIA. Oh! When it's just a quiet little dinner in his own rooms! If it had been the _Carlton_, now! PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. He proposed to entertain us at the Carlton at first--but I stopped _that_. It all bears out what I say--that he has absolutely _no_ sense of the value of---- MRS. FUTVOYE. [_Interposing calmly._] There, Anthony, that's enough! Horace is engaged to Sylvia--and the most sensible thing we can do is to make the best of it. PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. [_Rising and moving to the right._] I _am_ making the best of it, Sophia! If Ventimore was like Spencer Pringle, now!---- SYLVIA. He would never have been engaged to _me_! PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. [_To SYLVIA._] Pringle, my dear, is a steady, hard-working young fellow. I've a real respect and liking for _Pringle_. And if I _must_ have an architect for a son-in-law, he is the man _I_ should have preferred! SYLVIA. Why, he hasn't been near us for weeks and weeks--and I hope he means to stay away altogether! I always thought him a conceited prig. [_Moving towards door at back._ PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. You may come to think differently, my dear. [_Pulling out his watch._] Nearly half-past six! Tut-tut! All this time wasted! It's useless to wait any longer for Ventimore. We may just as well go! [_He goes to get his hat and stick._ MRS. FUTVOYE. [_Rising._] I knew how it would _be_! SYLVIA. [_At door._] Wait! [_Opens door and listens._] There's Horace coming upstairs! I'm sure it's his step! PROFESSOR FUTVOYE. [_Stops by table with relief._] At last! Now I shall know!