Studdenham.  Glad to be able to tell you, the young man’s to do the proper thing.  Asked me to let you know, Sir William.  Banns’ll be up next Sunday. [Struck by the silence, he looks round at all three in turn, and suddenly seeing that lady Cheshire is shivering] Beg pardon, my lady, you’re shakin’ like a leaf!

Bill. [Blurting it out] I’ve a painful piece of news for you, Studdenham; I’m engaged to your daughter.  We’re to be married at once.

Studdenham.  I—­don’t—­understand you—­sir.

Bill.  The fact is, I’ve behaved badly; but I mean to put it straight.

Studdenham.  I’m a little deaf.  Did you say—­my daughter?

Sir William.  There’s no use mincing matters, Studdenham.  It’s a thunderbolt—­young Dunning’s case over again.

Studdenham.  I don’t rightly follow.  She’s—­You’ve—!  I must see my daughter.  Have the goodness to send for her, m’lady.

     Lady Cheshire goes to the billiard-room, and calls:  “Freda, come
     here, please.”

Studdenham. [To sir William] you tell me that my daughter’s in the position of that girl owing to your son?  Men ha’ been shot for less.

Bill.  If you like to have a pot at me, Studdenham you’re welcome.

Studdenham. [Averting his eyes from Bill at the sheer idiocy of this sequel to his words] I’ve been in your service five and twenty years, Sir William; but this is man to man—­this is!

Sir William.  I don’t deny that, Studdenham.

Studdenham. [With eyes shifting in sheer anger] No—­’twouldn’t be very easy.  Did I understand him to say that he offers her marriage?

Sir William.  You did.

Studdenham. [Into his beard] Well—­that’s something! [Moving his hands as if wringing the neck of a bird] I’m tryin’ to see the rights o’ this.

Sir William. [Bitterly] You’ve all your work cut out for you, Studdenham.

     Again Studdenham makes the unconscious wringing movement with
     his hands.

Lady Cheshire. [Turning from it with a sort of horror] Don’t, Studdenham!  Please!

Studdenham.  What’s that, m’lady?

Lady Cheshire. [Under her breath] Your—­your—­hands.

     While Studdenham is still staring at her, Freda is seen standing
     in the doorway, like a black ghost.

Studdenham.  Come here!  You! [Freda moves a few steps towards her father] When did you start this?

Freda. [Almost inaudibly] In the summer, father.

Lady Cheshire.  Don’t be harsh to her!

Studdenham.  Harsh! [His eyes again move from side to side as if pain and anger had bewildered them.  Then looking sideways at Freda, but in a gentler voice] And when did you tell him about—­what’s come to you?