GWENDOLEN. There is a good postal service, I suppose? It may be necessary to do something desperate. That of course will require serious consideration. I will communicate with you daily. JACK. My own one! GWENDOLEN. How long do you remain in town? JACK. Till Monday. GWENDOLEN. Good! Algy, you may turn round now. ALGERNON. Thanks, I’ve turned round already. GWENDOLEN. You may also ring the bell. JACK. You will let me see you to your carriage, my own darling? GWENDOLEN. Certainly. JACK. [To Lane, who now enters.] I will see Miss Fairfax out. LANE. Yes, sir. [Jack and Gwendolen go off.] [Lane presents several letters on a salver to Algernon. It is to be surmised that they are bills, as Algernon, after looking at the envelopes, tears them up.] ALGERNON. A glass of sherry, Lane. LANE. Yes, sir. ALGERNON. To-morrow, Lane, I’m going Bunburying. LANE. Yes, sir. ALGERNON. I shall probably not be back till Monday. You can put up my dress clothes, my smoking jacket, and all the Bunbury suits . . . LANE. Yes, sir. [Handing sherry.] ALGERNON. I hope to-morrow will be a fine day, Lane. LANE. It never is, sir. ALGERNON. Lane, you’re a perfect pessimist. LANE. I do my best to give satisfaction, sir. [Enter Jack. Lane goes off.] JACK. There’s a sensible, intellectual girl! the only girl I ever cared for in my life. [Algernon is laughing immoderately.] What on earth are you so amused at? ALGERNON. Oh, I’m a little anxious about poor Bunbury, that is all. JACK. If you don’t take care, your friend Bunbury will get you into a serious scrape some day. ALGERNON. I love scrapes. They are the only things that are never serious. JACK. Oh, that’s nonsense, Algy. You never talk anything but nonsense. ALGERNON. Nobody ever does. [Jack looks indignantly at him, and leaves the room. Algernon lights a cigarette, reads his shirt-cuff, and smiles.] ACT DROP SECOND ACT SCENE Garden at the Manor House. A flight of grey stone steps leads up to the house. The garden, an old-fashioned one, full of roses. Time of year, July. Basket chairs, and a table covered with books, are set under a large yew-tree. [Miss Prism discovered seated at the table. Cecily is at the back watering flowers.] MISS PRISM. [Calling.] Cecily, Cecily! Surely such a utilitarian occupation as the watering of flowers is rather Moulton’s duty than yours? Especially at a moment when intellectual pleasures await you. Your German grammar is on the table. Pray open it at page fifteen. We will repeat yesterday’s lesson. CECILY. [Coming over very slowly.] But I don’t like German. It isn’t at all a becoming language. I know perfectly well that I look quite plain after my German lesson. MISS PRISM. Child, you know how anxious your guardian is that you should improve yourself in every way. He laid particular stress on your German, as he was leaving for town yesterday. Indeed, he always lays stress on your German when he is leaving for town.