FRAYNE.

[Edging towards SOPHY.] Alluring.

MRS. EDEN.

This is the fountain.

FRAYNE.

[Returning to her.] Quaint old fountain.

SOPHY.

[To MURIEL, across the hedge in a whisper.] Darling!

MRS. EDEN.

[Looking into the distance.] I think I see the dear Duchess.

FRAYNE.

[Alertly.] Where?

MRS. EDEN.

There.

FRAYNE.

I have the honour of knowing her Grace slightly.

MRS. EDEN.

[Moving away.] What a sweet woman!

FRAYNE.

[Following her.] Alluring!

[They disappear through the trees as MURIEL, coming from below the hedge, joins SOPHY.

SOPHY.

Darling!

MURIEL.

What is it, Sophy?

SOPHY.

Lord Quex and this—­this Duchess—­they know each other very well, of course?

MURIEL.

They are old acquaintances, I understand.

SOPHY.

Ah!

MURIEL.

Why do you ask?

SOPHY.

I’ve just seen them together, talking.

MURIEL.

Talking? why not?

SOPHY.

Yes, but how?

MURIEL.

How?

SOPHY.

I’ll tell you.  After you went indoors to dress, I took off my rings and put them on that table. [Looking away rather guiltily.] Rings fidget me, this hot weather—­don’t they you?  Well, just as I’d finished with Mrs. Jack, it suddenly struck me—­my rings!—­and I hurried back to fetch them.  When I got here, I came across Lord Quex and the Duchess.

MURIEL.

[Calmly.] Yes?

SOPHY.

I stooped down behind that hedge there.

MURIEL.

You did not!

SOPHY.

Oh, I suppose you consider it mean!

MURIEL.

Despicable!

SOPHY.

Despicable, is it!  I don’t care!  My goodness, I’d do the shabbiest thing a woman could do to save you from him!

MURIEL.

[Peering among the trees.] Hush, hush, hush!

SOPHY.

[On the verge of tears.] Perhaps you fancy I’m mean from choice?  Perhaps you imagine—?

MURIEL.

Be quiet, Sophy!

SOPHY.

[Giving a sniff and lowering her voice.] Well, here they were, standing exactly where you are, close to each other. [MURIEL changes her position.] I saw her touch his arm.  Oh, I’m positive there’s something between those two!  “You will?” I heard her say.  And then he made a remark about Friday—­Friday—­

MURIEL.

The Duchess goes on Friday.

SOPHY.

That was it, of course!  And then she mumbled something I couldn’t catch; and then—­listen to this!—­then she said “to-night,” quite plainly. To-night! and in such a tone of voice!  And then he bowed, and out she came with “to-night” again—­“to-night,” for the second time—­and away she went.  Now, what do you think that “to-night” of hers means?