_Not far from the fire-place there is a writing-table with a telephone-instrument upon it. A chair stands at the writing-table, its back to the window in the wall on the right; and in front of the table, opposing the settee by the piano, there is a third settee. On the left of this settee, almost in the middle of the room, is an arm-chair; and closer to the settee, on its right, are two more arm-chairs. Other articles of furniture-- a cabinet, "occasional" chairs, etc., etc.-- occupy spaces against the walls._ _On the piano, on the console-table and cabinet, on the settee at the back, on the round table, and upon the floor, stand huge baskets of flowers, and other handsome floral devices in various forms, with cards attached to them; and lying higgledy-piggledy upon the writing-table are a heap of small packages, several little cases containing jewellery, and a litter of paper and string. The packages and the cases of jewellery are also accompanied by cards or letters._ _A fierce sunlight streams down upon the velarium, and through the green blinds, in the conservatory._ [_Note: Throughout, "right" and "left" are the spectators' right and left, not the actor's._] [_LORD FARNCOMBE, his gloves in his hand, is seated in the arm-chair in the middle of the room. He is a simple-mannered, immaculately dressed young man in his early twenties, his bearing and appearance suggesting the soldier. He rises expectantly as GLADYS, a flashy parlourmaid in a uniform, shows in LIONEL ROPER, a middle-aged individual of the type of the second-class City man._ ROPER. [_To FARNCOMBE._] Hul-lo! I'm in luck! Just the chap I'm hunting for. [_Shaking hands with FARNCOMBE._] How d'ye do, Lord Farncombe? FARNCOMBE. How are you, Roper? GLADYS. [_To ROPER, languidly._] I'll tell Mrs. Upjohn you're here. ROPER. Ta. [_GLADYS withdraws._] Phew, it's hot! FARNCOMBE. Miss Parradell's out. ROPER. [_Taking off his gloves._] She won't be long, I dare say. FARNCOMBE. I've brought her a few flowers. ROPER. Have you? I've sent her a trifle of jewellery. FARNCOMBE. [_Glancing at the writing-table._] She seems to have received a lot of jewellery. ROPER. [_Bustling across to the table._] By Jove, doesn't she! Ah, there's my brooch! FARNCOMBE. [_Modestly._] I didn't consider I'd a right to offer her anything but flowers, on so slight an acquaintance. ROPER. Exactly; but I'm an old friend, you know. [_Turning to FARNCOMBE._] Perhaps, by her next birthday---- FARNCOMBE. [_Smiling._] I hope so. ROPER. [_Approaching FARNCOMBE and taking him by the lapel of his coat._] What I want to say to you is, doing anything to-night? FARNCOMBE. I-- I shall be at the theatre. ROPER. Oh, we shall all be at the theatre, to shout Many Happy Returns. Later, I mean. FARNCOMBE. Nothing that I can't get out of. ROPER.