MR. KNOWLE.  My dear, I always meant to come back safely.  Didn’t you expect me?

MRS. KNOWLE.  I had given up hope.  Jane here will tell you what a terrible morning I have had; prostrate on the sofa, mourning for my loved ones.  My only child torn from me, my husband—­dead.

MR. KNOWLE (surprised).  Oh, I was dead?

MRS. KNOWLE.  I pictured the car smashed to atoms, and you lying in the road, dead, with Peters by your side.

MR. KNOWLE.  Ah!  How was Peters?

MRS. KNOWLE (with a shrug).  I didn’t look.  What is a chauffeur to one who has lost her husband and her only child in the same morning?

MR. KNOWLE.  Still, I think you might have looked.

JANE.  Sandy’s all right, Aunt Mary.  You know she often goes out alone all day like this.

MRS. KNOWLE.  Ah, is she alone?  Jane, did you count the gardeners as I asked you?

MR. KNOWLE.  Count the gardeners?

MRS. KNOWLE.  To make sure that none of them is missing too.

JANE.  It’s quite all right, Aunt Mary.  Sandy will be back by tea-time.

MRS. KNOWLE (resigned).  It all comes of christening her Melisande.  You know, Henry, I quite thought you said Millicent.

MR. KNOWLE.  Well, talking about tea, my dear—­at which happy meal our long-lost daughter will be restored to us—­we have a visitor coming, a nice young fellow who takes an interest in prints.

MRS. KNOWLE.  I’ve heard nothing of this, Henry.

MR. KNOWLE.  No, my dear, that’s why I’m telling you now.

MRS. KNOWLE.  A young man?

MR. KNOWLE.  Yes.

MRS. KNOWLE.  Nice-looking?

MR. KNOWLE.  Yes.

MRS. KNOWLE.  Rich?

MR. KNOWLE.  I forgot to ask him, Mary.  However, we can remedy that omission as soon as he arrives.

MRS. KNOWLE.  It’s a very unfortunate day for him to have chosen.  Here’s Sandy lost, and I’m not fit to be seen, and—­Jane, your hair wants tidying——­

MR. KNOWLE.  He is not coming to see you or Sandy or Jane, my dear; he is coming to see me.  Fortunately, I am looking very beautiful this afternoon.

MRS. KNOWLE.  Jane, you had better be in the garden, dear, and see if you can stop Sandy before she comes in, and just give her a warning.  I don’t know what she’ll look like after roaming the fields all day, and falling into pools——­

MR. KNOWLE.  A sweet disorder in the dress kindles in clothes a wantonness.

MRS. KNOWLE.  I will go and tidy myself.  Jane, I think your mother would like you to—­but, after all, one must think of one’s own child first.  You will tell Sandy, won’t you?  We had better have tea in here. . . .  Henry, your trousers—­(she looks to see that JANE is not listening, and then says in a loud whisper) your trousers——­

MR. KNOWLE.  I’m afraid I didn’t make myself clear, Mary.  It’s a young fellow who is coming to see my prints; not the Prince of Wales who is coming to see my trousers.