TRENCHARD. Really! _There comes in a small, well groomed, bullet headed boy in Etons. This is the Major's eldest son. Looking scared and solemn he goes straight to his mother._ EMILY. Now be very quiet, Christopher . . _Then_ DENIS TREGONING _appears_. TRENCHARD. Oh, Tregoning, did you bring Honor back? DENIS. Yes. BOOTH. [_at the table._] A glass of wine, Mother. MRS. VOYSEY. What? BOOTH _hardly knows how to turn his whisper decorously into enough of a shout for his mother to hear. But he manages it._ BOOTH. Have a glass of wine? MRS. VOYSEY. Sherry, please. _While he pours it out with an air of its being medicine on this occasion and not wine at all_, EDWARD _comes quickly into the room, his face very set, his mind obviously on other matters than the funeral. No one speaks to him for the moment and he has time to observe them all._ TRENCHARD _is continuing his talk to_ DENIS. TRENCHARD. Give my love to Ethel. Is she ill that-- TREGONING. Not exactly, but she couldn't very well be with us. I thought perhaps you might have heard. We're expecting . . _He hesitates with the bashfulness of a young husband._ TRENCHARD _helps him out with a citizen's bow of respect for a citizen's duty_. TRENCHARD. Indeed. I congratulate you. I hope all will be well. Please give my love . . my best love to Ethel. BOOTH. [_in an awful voice._] Lunch, Emily? EMILY. [_scared._] I suppose so, Booth, thank you. BOOTH. I think the boy had better run away and play . . [_he checks himself on the word._] Well, take a book and keep quiet; d'ye hear me, Christopher? CHRISTOPHER, _who looks incapable of a sound, gazes at his father with round eyes_. EMILY _whispers "Library" to him and adds a kiss in acknowledgement of his good behaviour. After a moment he slips out, thankfully._ EDWARD. How's Ethel, Denis? TREGONING. A little smashed, of course, but no harm done. ALICE MAITLAND _comes in, brisk and businesslike; a little impatient of this universal cloud of mourning_. ALICE. Edward, Honor has gone to her room. I want to take her some food and make her eat it. She's very upset. EDWARD. Make her drink a glass of wine, and say it is necessary she should come down here. And d'you mind not coming back yourself, Alice? ALICE. [_her eyebrows up._] Certainly, if you wish. BOOTH. [_overhearing._] What's this? What's this? _Alice gets her glass of wine and goes. The Major is suddenly full of importance._ BOOTH. What is this, Edward? EDWARD. I have something to say to you all. BOOTH. What? EDWARD. Well, Booth, you'll hear when I say it. BOOTH. Is it business? . . because I think this is scarcely the time for business. EDWARD. Why? BOOTH. Do you find it easy and reverent to descend from your natural grief to the consideration of money . . ? I do not. [_he finds_ TRENCHARD _at his elbow._] I hope you are getting some lunch, Trenchard.