_You_ can deal with these.

MISS TRACER.

Thank you, Lady Filson.

LADY FILSON.

[_Reading a letter._] Lady Skewes and Mrs. Walter Quebec ... arranging a concert in aid of ... [_sighing_] tickets, of course!... what tiring women!... [_turning the sheet_] oh!... may they include me in their list of patronesses?... Princess Cagliari-Tamponi, the Countess of Harrogate, the Viscountess Chepmell, Lady Kathleen Tring ... [_laying the letter aside_] delighted. [_Heaping together the cards and the rest of the letters._] I must answer those myself. [_To_ MISS TRACER.]

That's all. [MISS TRACER _rises._] Get on with the invitations for July the eighth as quickly as you can.

MISS TRACER.

[_Going to the glazed door._] Yes, Lady Filson.

LADY FILSON.

[_Turning._] Miss Tracer----

MISS TRACER.

[_Halting._] Yes, Lady Filson?

LADY FILSON.

I think Madame de Chaumie wants you to do some little commissions for her. Kindly see her before you go to your room.

BERTRAM.

[_To_ MISS TRACER, _looking up._] No, no; don't.

LADY FILSON.

[_To_ BERTRAM.] Not?

BERTRAM.

My sister is engaged, mother.

LADY FILSON.

Engaged?

BERTRAM.

With Sir Timothy Barradell.

LADY FILSON.

Oh--? [_To_ MISS TRACER.] By-and-by, then.

MISS TRACER.

Yes, Lady Filson.

[MISS TRACER _departs, closing the door._

LADY FILSON.

[_To_ BERTRAM, _eagerly._] Sir Timothy----!

BERTRAM.

He called half-an-hour ago, mother, Underwood tells me, with a note for Ottoline.

LADY FILSON.

From himself?

BERTRAM.

Presumably; and Dilworth came down and took him up to her boudoir.

LADY FILSON.

[_Rising._] An unusual time of day for a call! [_Approaching_ BERTRAM _and speaking under her breath._] Are matters coming to a head between them, my dear boy?

BERTRAM.

Don't ask _me_, mother. [_Rising._] You are as capable of forming an opinion as I am, I mean t'say.

LADY FILSON.

I've a feeling that _something_ is in the air. He positively shadowed her last night at the Gorhams'!

BERTRAM.

[_Knitting his brows._] I admit I should prefer, if my sister contemplates marrying again, that her choice fell on one of the others.

LADY FILSON.

Mr. Trefusis--or George Delacour----?

BERTRAM.

Even Trevor Wilson. [_Wincing._] The idea of a merchant brother-in-law doesn't appeal to me very strongly, I mean t'say.

LADY FILSON.

Still, a baronet----!