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[SIR RANDLE _returns, with a solemn countenance. He closes the door and comes forward._
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ LADY FILSON.] A melancholy morning, Winnie.
LADY FILSON.
[_Sighing._] Ahhh!
SIR RANDLE.
[_Producing a black-edged pocket-handkerchief and unfolding it._] Poor Macfarlane--and then _this_! [_Blowing his nose._] Upsetting!
Upsetting! [_Glancing at_ BERTRAM.] Does Bertram----?
LADY FILSON.
I've told him.
BERTRAM.
My dear father, I cannot--I cannot profess to regret my sister's decision. I mean to _say_----!
SIR RANDLE.
[_Suddenly._] Nor I. [_In an outburst, pacing the room._] Nor I. I _must_ be candid. It's my nature to be candid. A d.a.m.ned tradesman!
BERTRAM.
Exactly. It shows my sister's delicacy and refinement, I mean t'say.
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ LADY FILSON, _halting._] Who, in your opinion, Winnie----?
LADY FILSON.
_I'm_ inclined to think it's Mr. Delacour.
SIR RANDLE.
[_Resuming his walk._] So be it. [_Raising his arms._] If I am to lose my child a second time--so be it.
BERTRAM.
_I_ venture to suggest it may be Edward Trefusis.
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ BERTRAM, _halting again._] My dear boy, in a matter of this kind, I fancy we can rely on your mother's wonderful powers of penetration.
BERTRAM.
[_Bowing._] Pardon, father.
LADY FILSON.
[_Closing her eyes._] "Mrs. George Delacour."
SIR RANDLE.
[_Partly closing his eyes and again resuming his walk._] "A marriage is arranged and will shortly take place between George Holmby Delacour, of--of--of----"
BERTRAM.
[_Closing his eyes._] "90, St. James's Street----"
SIR RANDLE.
[_Halting and opening his eyes._] One thing I heartily deplore, Winifred----
LADY FILSON.
[_Opening her eyes._] What is that, Randle?
SIR RANDLE.
Ottoline being a widow, there can be no bridesmaids; which deprives us of the happiness of paying a pretty compliment to the daughters of several families of distinction whom we have the privilege of numbering among our acquaintances.
LADY FILSON.
There can be no bridesmaids, strictly speaking; but a widow may be accompanied to the altar by a bevy of Maids of Honour.
SIR RANDLE.
Ah, yes! An equally good opportunity for an imposing--[_closing his eyes_] and reverential display! [_To_ LADY FILSON.] Lady Maundrell's girl Sybil, eh, Winnie?
LADY FILSON.
Decidedly. And Lady Eva Sherringham.
BERTRAM.
Lady Lilian and Lady Constance Foxe----
SIR RANDLE.
Lady Irene Pallant----
