MRS. RANKLING. It is your memory I wish to send back. Ah, Archibald, do you see how round and plump those cheeks are? RANKLING. People alter. You were stout then. MRS. RANKLING. I was. RANKLING. In those days I was thin. MRS. RANKLING. Frightfully. RANKLING. Very well, then--the average remains the same. Some day we may return to the old arrangement. MRS. RANKLING. If you ever find yourself a spare man again, Archibald, it won't be because I have worried and fretted you with my peevish ill-humour-- RANKLING. Emma! MRS. RANKLING. As you have worried and worn me with yours. RANKLING. Emma, you have completely lost your head. [_She raises the broken bust._] I don't mean that confounded bust. That was an ideal. MRS. RANKLING. And if a mere sculptor could make your wife an ideal, why shouldn't you try? So, understand me finally, Archibald, I will not be ground down any longer. Unless some arrangement is arrived at for the happiness of dear Dinah and Mr. Paulover, I leave you. RANKLING. Leave me! MRS. RANKLING. This very day. RANKLING. Wantonly desert your home and husband, Emma? MRS. RANKLING. Yes. RANKLING. [_With emotion._] And I don't know where to put my hand upon even a necktie! [_Covering his face with his handkerchief._] MRS. RANKLING. All the world shall learn how highly you thought of Dinah's marriage at Mr. Queckett's party last night. RANKLING. [_To himself_] Oh! MRS. RANKLING. And what a very different man you have always been in your own home. [_Beginning to cry._] And take care, Archibald, that the verdict of posterity is not that you were less a husband and father than a tyrant and oppressor. [_Queckett enters, with Miss Dyott in pursuit; she follows him out._] MISS DYOTT. [_As she goes._] Vere! [_Rankling blows his nose and wipes his, eyes, and looks at Mrs. Rankling._] RANKLING. [_In a conciliatory tone._] Emma! Emma! MRS. RANKLING. [_ Weeping._] Oh, dear, oh, dear! RANKLING. Emma. [_Irritably._] Don't tuck your head under your arm in that way! [_She puts the broken bust on the table._] Emma, there have been grave faults on both sides. Yours I will endeavour to overlook. MRS. RANKLING. Ah, now you are your dear old self again. RANKLING. But, Emma, you are occasionally an irritating woman to live with. MRS. RANKLING. You are the first who has ever said that. RANKLING. So I should hope, Emma. MRS. RANKLING. And poor Dinah--you will forgive her? RANKLING. On conditions that she doesn't see Paulover's face again for five years. MRS. RANKLING. Oh, there will be no difficulty about that. [_Reginald and Dinah enter, she is dressed for flight._] DINAH. Papa! REGINALD. My father-in-law! [_They retreat hastily._] RANKLING. [_Madly._] Who let you out? Who let you in? [_He goes out after them--Mrs. Rankling follows._] MRS. RANKLING.