[_Sympathetically, as they walk._] Is his Grace still very unwell? DUCHESS. [_Smiling sadly upon_ MRS. EDEN.] He is still over seventy. [_They wander away, through the trees, as_ QUEX _and_ MURIEL _leave the fountain._ QUEX. [_With tender playfulness, first glancing at the sleeping_ LADY OWBRIDGE.] And so all these good things are to befall me after to-morrow? MURIEL. [_In a low voice._] After to-morrow. QUEX. When I approach, I shall no longer see you skim away into the far vista of these alleys, or shrink back into the shadows of the corridors--[_prosaically_] after to-morrow. MURIEL. No--not after to-morrow. QUEX. In place of a cold word, a chilling phrase, a warm one--after to-morrow. MURIEL. I am going to try. QUEX. If I touch your hand, you'll not slip it behind your back in a hurry [_touching her hand_]--? MURIEL. [_Withdrawing it._] Not after to-morrow. [_She sits; he stands behind the stone bench, leaning over the back of it._ QUEX. But why, may I ask, is this bliss reserved till after _to-morrow_? MURIEL. I had rather you did _not_ ask me, Quex. QUEX. No? I see, I am a day too soon in putting even that little question. MURIEL. Ah, I'll tell you this--I am going to turn over a new leaf, after to-morrow. QUEX. You! your pages are all milk-white. What can you detect upon one of them to induce you to turn it? MURIEL. [_Gazing into space._] I--I've been scribbling there--scrawling--drawing pictures-- QUEX. Pictures--of what? MURIEL. You shall know, perhaps, some day. QUEX. After to-morrow? MURIEL. Yes, Quex, but--after many to-morrows. [TWO MEN-SERVANTS--_an old man and a young one--descend the steps and proceed to remove the tea-things._ LADY OWBRIDGE. [_Waking._] Eh--? [_Seeing_ MURIEL _and_ QUEX.] Ah, my dears--! I am reading such an absorbing book. MURIEL. [_By her side, taking the book._] May I--? LADY OWBRIDGE. You should study the Dean of St. Olpherts' sermons--and you, Henry. QUEX. [_Taking the book from_ MURIEL _and turning its pages._] Yes, I must--I must-- LADY OWBRIDGE. By the way, has anything been seen of that nice young manicure girl, Miss Sophy--something--? MURIEL. Sophy Fullgarney--she arrived at about half-past four, and I asked Mrs. Gregory to show her over the house. I thought you would not object. LADY OWBRIDGE. Object! it pleases me. MURIEL. She is roving about the grounds now. LADY OWBRIDGE. An exceedingly prepossessing young woman, of her class. [_The_ SERVANTS _have gone up the steps, carrying the tea-things._ THE ELDER SERVANT. [_Looking down the alley towards the left._] I see the young person, my lady. LADY OWBRIDGE. I'll speak to her, Bristow. [_The_ ELDER SERVANT _goes off towards the left; the younger one, bearing the tray, to the right. The_ DUCHESS _and_ MRS. EDEN _return, above the low cypress-hedge;_ QUEX _meets them._ MURIEL.