MRS. CLANDON. --and partly because I want you to explain everything to the children. They know nothing; and now that we have come back to England, it is impossible to leave them in ignorance any longer. (Agitated.) Finch: I cannot bring myself to tell them. I-- (She is interrupted by the twins and Gloria. Dolly comes tearing up the steps, racing Philip, who combines a terrific speed with unhurried propriety of bearing which, however, costs him the race, as Dolly reaches her mother first and almost upsets the garden seat by the precipitancy of her arrival.) DOLLY (breathless). It's all right, mamma. The dentist is coming; and he's bringing his old man. MRS. CLANDON. Dolly, dear: don't you see Mr. McComas? (Mr. McComas rises, smilingly.) DOLLY (her face falling with the most disparagingly obvious disappointment). This! Where are the flowing locks? PHILIP (seconding her warmly). Where the beard?--the cloak?--the poetic exterior? DOLLY. Oh, Mr. McComas, you've gone and spoiled yourself. Why didn't you wait till we'd seen you? McCOMAS (taken aback, but rallying his humor to meet the emergency). Because eighteen years is too long for a solicitor to go without having his hair cut. GLORIA (at the other side of McComas). How do you do, Mr. McComas? (He turns; and she takes his hand and presses it, with a frank straight look into his eyes.) We are glad to meet you at last. McCOMAS. Miss Gloria, I presume? (Gloria smiles assent, and releases his hand after a final pressure. She then retires behind the garden seat, leaning over the back beside Mrs. Clandon.) And this young gentleman? PHILIP. I was christened in a comparatively prosaic mood. My name is-- DOLLY (completing his sentence for him declamatorily). "Norval. On the Grampian hills"-- PHILIP (declaiming gravely). "My father feeds his flock, a frugal swain"-- MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dear, dear children: don't be silly. Everything is so new to them here, Finch, that they are in the wildest spirits. They think every Englishman they meet is a joke. DOLLY. Well, so he is: it's not our fault. PHILIP. My knowledge of human nature is fairly extensive, Mr. McComas; but I find it impossible to take the inhabitants of this island seriously. McCOMAS. I presume, sir, you are Master Philip (offering his hand)? PHILIP (taking McComas's hand and looking solemnly at him). I was Master Philip--was so for many years; just as you were once Master Finch. (He gives his hand a single shake and drops it; then turns away, exclaiming meditatively) How strange it is to look back on our boyhood! (McComas stares after him, not at all pleased.) DOLLY (to Mrs. Clandon). Has Finch had a drink? MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dearest: Mr. McComas will lunch with us. DOLLY. Have you ordered for seven? Don't forget the old gentleman. MRS. CLANDON. I have not forgotten him, dear. What is his name? DOLLY. Chalkstones. He'll be here at half past one. (To McComas.) Are we like what you expected?