Culch. Presently—­presently, if I have an opportunity. (Hastily, to Mr. B.) I gather that you paint yourself, Sir?

Mr. B. Well, yes.  I assure you I often go to a Gallery, see a picture there that takes my fancy, go back to my office, and paint it in half an hour from memory—­so lake the original that, if it were framed, and hung up alongside, it would puzzle the man who painted it to know t’other from which!  I have indeed!  I paint original pictures, too.  Most important thing I ever did was—­let me see now—­three feet by two and three-quarters.  I was most successful in getting an effect of rose-coloured snow against the sky.  I sponged it up, and—­well, it came right somehow. Luck, that was, not skill, you know.  I sent that picture to the Royal Academy, and they did me the honour to—­ar—­reject it.

Culch. (vaguely).  An—­er—­honour, indeed.—­(In despair, as Mr. B. rises.)—­You—­You’re not going!

Mr. B. (consolingly).  Only into the garden, for coffee.  I observe you are interested in Art.  We will—­ar—­resume this conversation later.

[Rises; Miss PRENDERGAST rises too, and goes towards the garden.

Culch. (as he follows, hastily).  I must get this business over—­if I can.  But I wish I knew exactly how much to tell her.  It’s really very awkward—­between the two of them.  I’m afraid I’ve been a little too precipitate.

In the Garden; a few minutes later.

Miss Prend. (who has retired to fetch her glasses, with gracious playfulness).  Well, Mr. CULCHARD, and how has my knight performed his lady’s behests?

Culch. May I ask which knight you refer to?

Miss P. (slightly changing countenance).  Which!  Then—­you know there is another?  Surely there is nothing in that circumstance to—­to offend—­or hurt you?

Culch. Offended? (Considers whether this would be a good line to take.) Hardly that.  Hurt?  Well, I confess to being pained—­very much pained, to discover that I was unconsciously pitted—­against PODBURY!

Miss P..  But why?  I have expressed no preference as yet.  You can scarcely have become so attached to him that you dread the result of a successful rivalry!

Culch. (to himself).  It’s a loop-hole—­I’ll try it. (Aloud.) You have divined my feeling exactly.  In—­er—­obeying your commands, I have learned to know PODBURY better—­to see in him a sterling nature, more worthy, in some respects, than my own.  And I know how deeply he has centred all his hopes upon you, Miss PRENDERGAST. Knowing, seeing that as I—­er—­do, I feel that—­whatever it costs me—­I cannot run the risk of wrecking the—­er—­life’s happiness of so good a fellow.  So you must really allow me to renounce vows accepted under—­er—­an imperfect comprehension of the—­er—­facts! [Wipes his brow.