TREMAYNE (with his hat in his hand). I'm afraid I'm trespa.s.sing.

BELINDA (winningly). But it's such a pretty garden (turns away, dosing her parasol), isn't it?

TREMAYNE (rather confused). I-I beg your pardon, I-er--(He is wondering if it can possibly be she. BELINDA thinks his confusion is due to the fact that he is trespa.s.sing, and hastens to put him at his ease.)

BELINDA. I should have done the same myself, you know.

TREMAYNE (pulling himself together). Oh, but you mustn't think I just came in because I liked the garden--

BELINDA (clapping her hands). No; but say you do like it, quick.

TREMAYNE. It's lovely and--(He hesitates.)

BELINDA (hopefully). Yes?

TREMAYNE (with conviction). Yes, it's lovely.

BELINDA (with that happy sigh of hers). O-oh!... Now tell me what really did happen?

TREMAYNE. I was on my way to Marytown--

BELINDA. To where?

TREMAYNE. Marytown.

BELINDA. Oh, you mean Mariton.

TREMAYNE. Do I?

BELINDA. Yes; we always call it Mariton down here. (Earnestly.) You don't mind, do you?

TREMAYNE (smiling). Not a bit.

BELINDA. Just say it--to see if you've got it right.

TREMAYNE. Mariton.

BELINDA (shaking her head). Oh no, that's quite wrong. Try it again (With a rustic accent.) Mariton.

TREMAYNE. Mariton.

BELINDA. Yes, that's much better.... (As if it were he who had interrupted.) Well, do go on.

TREMAYNE. I'm afraid it isn't much of an apology really. I saw what looked like a private road, but what I rather hoped wasn't, and--well, I thought I'd risk it. I do hope you'll forgive me.

BELINDA. Oh, but I love people seeing my garden. Are you staying in Mariton?

TREMAYNE. I think so. Oh yes, decidedly.

BELINDA. Well, perhaps the next time the road won't feel so private.

TREMAYNE. How charming of you! (He feels he must know.) Are you Mrs.

Tremayne by any chance?

BELINDA. Yes.

TREMAYNE (nodding to himself). Yes.

BELINDA. How did you know?

TREMAYNE (hastily inventing). They use you as a sign-post in the village. Past Mrs. Tremayne's house and then bear to the left--

BELINDA. And you couldn't go past it?

TREMAYNE. I'm afraid I couldn't. Thank you so much for not minding.

Well, I must be getting on, I have trespa.s.sed quite enough.

BELINDA (regretfully). And you haven't really seen the garden yet.

TREMAYNE. If you won't mind my going on this way, I shall see some more on my way out.

BELINDA. Please do. It likes being looked at. (With the faintest suggestion of demureness) All pretty things do.

TREMAYNE. Thank you very much. Er--(He hesitates.)

BELINDA (helpfully). Yes?

TREMAYNE. I wonder if you'd mind very much if I called one day to thank you formally for the lesson you gave me in p.r.o.nunciation?

BELINDA (gravely). Yes. I almost think you ought to. I think it's the correct thing to do.

TREMAYNE (contentedly). Thank you very much, Mrs. Tremayne.

BELINDA. You'll come in quite formally by the front-door next time, won't you, because--because that seems the only chance of my getting to know your name.

TREMAYNE. Oh, I beg your pardon. My name is--er--er--Robinson.

BELINDA (laughing). How very odd!

TREMAYNE (startled). Odd?

BELINDA. Yes; we have someone called Robinson staying in the house. I wonder if she is any relation?

TREMAYNE (hastily). Oh no, no. No, she couldn't be. I have no relations called Robinson--not to speak of.

BELINDA (holding out her hand). You must tell me all about your relations when you come and call, Mr. Robinson.

TREMAYNE. I think we can find something better worth talking about than that.