That was it, of course! And then she mumbled something I couldn't catch; and then--listen to this!--then she said "to-night," quite plainly. _To-night!_ and in such a tone of voice! And then he bowed, and out she came with "to-night" again--"to-night," for the second time--and away she went. Now, what do you think that "to-night" of hers means? MURIEL. [_Coldly, seating herself upon the bench._] Nothing--anything. SOPHY. Nothing! MURIEL. A hundred topics of conversation would lead to such an expression. [_Looking at_ SOPHY _steadily._] You are mistaken in the construction you put upon it. SOPHY. [_Quietly._] Mistaken, am I? MURIEL. [_With clenched hands._] The Duchess of Strood is a most immaculate woman. [_Suddenly._] Oh, it would be too infamous! [_The_ DUCHESS _and_ FRAYNE, _followed by_ MRS. EDEN, _reappear behind the low hedge._ SOPHY _retreats to the back of the bench upon which_ MURIEL _is sitting. The_ DUCHESS _and_ FRAYNE _approach, talking, while_ MRS. EDEN _chats to_ SOPHY _across the hedge._ FRAYNE. [_To the_ DUCHESS, _gallantly._] I am flattered by your remembrance of me, Duchess. When we last met I had hardly a grey hair in my head. [_Running his hand through his hair._] Ha! The West Coast--! DUCHESS. Is the climate so terrible? FRAYNE. Deadly. But the worst of it is, [_with a bow and a sigh_] we have no European ladies. [MURIEL--_eyeing the_ DUCHESS--_rises, shrinkingly, and steals away._ FRAYNE. [_Looking after_ MURIEL.] Quex! ha, there's a lucky dog, now! DUCHESS. [_Sweetly._] You are delighted, naturally, at your old friend's approaching marriage? FRAYNE. [_Kissing his finger-tips towards the left._] Miss Eden--! [_Inquisitively._] And--and _you_, Duchess? DUCHESS. [_Raising her eyebrows._] I? FRAYNE. You also approve his choice? DUCHESS. [_Blandly._] Approve? I am scarcely sufficiently intimate with either party to express approval or disapproval. FRAYNE. [_Eyeing her askance._] Pardon. I thought you had known Quex for--ah--some years. DUCHESS. Quite superficially. I should describe him rather as a great friend of his Grace. LADY OWBRIDGE _appears on the top of the steps._ LADY OWBRIDGE. Are you here, Duchess? DUCHESS. [_Turning to her._] Yes. LADY OWBRIDGE. [_Coming down the steps._] Oh, I am really very upset! DUCHESS. Upset? LADY OWBRIDGE. About your maid. The circumstance has only just been reported to me--you have lost your maid. [_Seeing_ FRAYNE.] Is that Sir Chichester? [FRAYNE _advances and shakes hands._] I didn't observe you, in the dusk. Have you seen Henry? I wonder if he is waiting for us in the drawing-room? FRAYNE. May I go and hunt for him? LADY OWBRIDGE. It would be kind of you. [FRAYNE _goes up the steps and away._ MRS. EDEN _comes to the stone bench._ MURIEL _returns slowly, coming from among the trees and appearing on the further side of the low hedge._ DUCHESS.