She lost her first husband about twelve months ago in India. He was an army contractor.

BEATIE.

[_To CIS at the piano._] I must go now--there's no excuse for staying any longer.

CIS.

[_To her disconsolately._] What the deuce shall _I_ do?

MR. POSKET.

[_Pouring out milk._] Dear me, this milk seems very poor. When he died, she came to England, placed her boy at a school in Brighton, and then moved about quietly from place to place, drinking----

[_Sips tea._

MR. BULLAMY.

Drinking?

MR. POSKET.

The waters--she's a little dyspeptic. [_WYKE goes out._] We encountered each other at the _Tours des Fontaines_--by accident I trod upon her dress----

BEATIE.

Good-night, Cis dear.

CIS.

Oh!

MR. POSKET.

[_Continuing to MR. BULLAMY._] I apologised. We talked about the weather, we drank out of the same gla.s.s, discovered that we both suffered from the same ailment, and the result is complete happiness.

[_He bends over AGATHA POSKET gallantly._

AGATHA POSKET.

aeneas!

[_He kisses her, then CIS kisses BEATIE, loudly; MR. POSKET and MR.

BULLAMY both listen puzzled._

MR. POSKET.

Echo?

MR. BULLAMY.

Suppose so!

[_He kisses the back of his hand experimentally; BEATIE kisses CIS._

MR. BULLAMY.

Yes.

MR. POSKET.

Curious. [_To MR. BULLAMY._] Romantic story, isn't it?

BEATIE.

Good-night, Mrs. Posket! I shall be here early to-morrow morning.

AGATHA POSKET.

I am afraid you are neglecting your other pupils.

BEATIE.

Oh, they're not so interesting as Cis--[_correcting herself_] Master Farringdon. Good-night.

AGATHA POSKET.

Good-night, dear.

[_BEATIE goes out quietly; AGATHA POSKET joins CIS._

MR. POSKET.

[_To MR. BULLAMY._] We were married abroad without consulting friends or relations on either side. That's how it is I have never seen my sister-in-law, Miss Verrinder, who is coming from Shropshire to stay with us--she ought to----

_WYKE enters._

WYKE.

Miss Verrinder has come, ma'am.

MR. POSKET.

Here she is.

AGATHA POSKET.

Charlotte?