Miss beech. [Who has been gazing after joy.] Talkin’ business, poor creatures?

Lever.  Oh, no!  If you’ll excuse me, I’ll wash my hands before tea.

     [He glances at the Colonel poring over papers, and, shrugging
     his shoulders, strolls away.]

Miss beech. [Sitting in the swing.] I see your horrid papers.

Colonel.  Be quiet, Peachey!

Miss beech.  On a beautiful summer’s day, too.

Colonel.  That’ll do now.

Miss beech. [Unmoved.] For every ounce you take out of a gold mine you put two in.

Colonel.  Who told you that rubbish?

Miss beech. [With devilry.] You did!

Colonel.  This is n’t an ordinary gold mine.

Miss beech.  Oh! quite a special thing.

     [Colonel stares at her, but subsiding at hey impassivity, he
     pores again over the papers.]

     [Rosy has approached with a tea cloth.]

Rose.  If you please, sir, the Missis told me to lay the tea.

Colonel.  Go away!  Ten fives fifty.  Ten 5 16ths, Peachey?

Miss beech.  I hate your nasty sums!

[Rose goes away.  The Colonel Writes.  Mrs. Hope’s voice is heard, “Now then, bring those chairs, you two.  Not that one, Ernest.”  Ernest and Letty appear through the openings of the wall, each with a chair.]

Colonel. [With dull exasperation.] What do you want?

Letty.  Tea, Father.

     [She places her chair and goes away.]

Ernest. That Johnny-bird Lever is too cocksure for me, Colonel.  Those South American things are no good at all.  I know all about them from young Scrotton.  There’s not one that’s worth a red cent.  If you want a flutter——­

Colonel. [Explosively.] Flutter!  I’m not a gambler, sir!

Ernest. Well, Colonel [with a smile], I only don’t want you to chuck your money away on a stiff ’un.  If you want anything good you should go to Mexico.

Colonel. [Jumping up and holding out the map.] Go to [He stops in time.] What d’you call that, eh?  M-E-X——­

Ernest. [Not to be embarrassed.] It all depend on what part.

Colonel.  You think you know everything—­you think nothing’s right unless it’s your own idea!  Be good enough to keep your advice to yourself.

Ernest. [Moving with his chair, and stopping with a smile.] If you ask me, I should say it wasn’t playing the game to put Molly into a thing like that.

Colonel.  What do you mean, sir?

Ernest. Any Juggins can see that she’s a bit gone on our friend.