BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Pa must have been inexcusably reckless--what?

LADY TWOMBLEY.

No, it"s all my fault, every bit of it. [A pretty melody on the harp is heard.] Brooke, never marry a country-bred girl as your pa did. When he fell in love with me I was content with three frocks a year--think of that!--and had to twist up my own hats. And I could have done it for ever down at Cleverton, but I didn"t stand the transplanting. Oh, I"ll never forget how the fine folks snubbed me and sneered at me when I came to town. Brooke, my son, I declare to goodness that for ten long years I never saw a nose that wasn"t turned up! And then pa got his baronetcy, and old Lady Drumdurris gave us her forefinger to shake, and that did it. But it was too late; I was spoilt by that time. I had been too long fishing for friends with dances, and dinners, and drags, and race-parties, and all sorts of bait; and when the time came for a few people to like me for my own stupid, rough self I"d got into the way of scattering sovereigns as freely as I used to sprinkle mignonette seed in my little garden at the Yale Farm.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.



All this is very painful, Mater--what?

LADY TWOMBLEY.

[Crying.] What a silly woman I"ve been, Brooke!

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

We"re all thoughtless at times.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

If I had but pulled in when pa"s Irish rents began to dwindle!

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Why didn"t you, Mater?

LADY TWOMBLEY.

I don"t know, but I didn"t, I only prayed for better times and ordered Gillow to refurnish the dining-room. Last season I got through eighteen thousand pounds!

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Oh!

[She twists him round, pointing to the walls of the conservatory.]

LADY TWOMBLEY.

And look! Look at this sixpenny Algerian grotto I"ve stuck in the middle of the house. Seven thousand four hundred and fifty this cost, not counting the hot-water pipes.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Is it paid for?

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Your dear pa transferred the money for it to my account at Scott"s, but I"ve gone and spent it on other things.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Mater!

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Oh, my poor heart!

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Well, Mater, any a.s.sistance I can render you in this emergency----

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Ah, I know. [Seizing his hand and kissing it.] My Brooke! my comfort!

PROBYN.

[Outside.] Lady Drumdurris--Dowager Lady Drumdurris.

BROOKE TWOMBLEY.

Egidia and Aunt Dora.

LADY TWOMBLEY.

[Wiping her eyes.] Your aunt mustn"t see me upset. Brooke, don"t think anything more of what I"ve told you. I"ve tumbled into the mud before now, but mud dries to dust and I"ve always managed to shake it off.

Dora!

[The DOWAGER COUNTESS OF DRUMDURRIS enters--a portly, rather formidable-looking lady of forty-five or fifty, in Court dress and diamonds.]

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Well, Dora, are you tired?

DOWAGER.

I hope I am never fatigued in doing my duty to my family, Kate. Here is poor Egidia.

[EGIDIA, COUNTESS OF DRUMDURRIS enters--a small, serious girl, with a great deal of presence and dignity, also in Court dress.]

EGIDIA.

How do you do, Lady Twombley?

LADY TWOMBLEY.

Why, _poor_ Egidia! Aren"t you well, dear?

DOWAGER.

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