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Katherine, I have been telling Brooke of the change in his prospects.
BROOKE TWOMBLEY.
I say, Mater, such a blow--what!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Pa, why can't you wait?
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Wait--for what, Katherine?
DOWAGER.
Wait till the boy can patch up his future with a wealthy wife, of course.
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Really, Dora, I don't think it would be absolutely fair----
DOWAGER.
Fair! People's actions are like their heads of hair--they can be dyed flaxen. [To BROOKE.] Boy, why do you let the gra.s.s grow under your pumps in this way?
BROOKE TWOMBLEY.
I haven't let the gra.s.s grow, Aunt Dora. I--ah--I have the happiness to be engaged--what!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Engaged!
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Bless my soul!
DOWAGER.
In mercy's name, to whom?
BROOKE TWOMBLEY.
To Effie.
LADY TWOMBLEY and SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Euphemia!
DOWAGER.
Euphemia! Why, how dare you conspire to entrap a child of mine into a moneyless marriage?
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
My dear Dora, you yourself suggested----
DOWAGER.
If I may be guilty of such an expression--fall-lall!
BROOKE TWOMBLEY.
But, aunt----
DOWAGER.
Hold your tongue, sir! Ah, I believe you all have abominable motives!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
[To herself.] The telegram! The telegram! Why is there no telegram?
[The music of the Strathspey is heard. IMOGEN enters with LADY EUPHEMIA.]
DOWAGER.
Euphemia!
[LADY EUPHEMIA joins the others. IMOGEN goes to LADY TWOMBLEY in agitation.]
IMOGEN.
Mamma! The Strathspey!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
What of it?
IMOGEN.
I'm engaged to dance it with Sir Colin. Oh, mamma, I don't love him!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Child, you loved him the other night while your head was being washed.
IMOGEN.
