[Mrs. Gwyn sits with a vindictive smile.]

A gold mine’s a gold mine.  I don’t mean he deliberately—­but they take in women and parsons, and—­and all sorts of fools. [Looking down.] And then, you know, I can’t tell your feelings, my dear, and I don’t want to; but a man about town ’ll compromise a woman as soon as he’ll look at her, and [softly shaking his head] I don’t like that, Molly!  It ’s not the thing!

     [Mrs. Gwyn sits unmoved, smiling the same smile, and the colonel
     gives her a nervous look.]

If—­if you were any other woman I should n’t care—­and if—­if you were a plain woman, damme, you might do what you liked!  I know you and Geoff don’t get on; but here’s this child of yours, devoted to you, and—­and don’t you see, old girl?  Eh?

Mrs. Gwyn. [With a little hard laugh.] Thanks!  Perfectly!  I suppose as you don’t think, Uncle Tom, it never occurred to you that I have rather a lonely time of it.

Colonel. [With compunction.] Oh! my dear, yes, of course I know it must be beastly.

Mrs. Gwyn. [Stonily.] It is.

Colonel.  Yes, yes! [Speaking in a surprised voice.] I don’t know what I ’m talking like this for!  It’s your aunt!  She goes on at me till she gets on my nerves.  What d’ you think she wants me to do now?  Put money into this gold mine!  Did you ever hear such folly?

Mrs. Gwyn. [Breaking into laughter.] Oh!  Uncle Tom!

Colonel.  All very well for you to laugh, Molly!

Mrs. Gwyn. [Calmly.] And how much are you going to put in?

Colonel.  Not a farthing!  Why, I’ve got nothing but my pension and three thousand India stock!

Mrs. Gwyn.  Only ninety pounds a year, besides your pension!  D’ you mean to say that’s all you’ve got, Uncle Tom?  I never knew that before.  What a shame!

Colonel. [Feelingly.] It is a, d—­d shame!  I don’t suppose there’s another case in the army of a man being treated as I’ve been.

Mrs. Gwyn.  But how on earth do you manage here on so little?

Colonel. [Brooding.] Your aunt’s very funny.  She’s a born manager.  She ’d manage the hind leg off a donkey; but if I want five shillings for a charity or what not, I have to whistle for it.  And then all of a sudden, Molly, she’ll take it into her head to spend goodness knows what on some trumpery or other and come to me for the money.  If I have n’t got it to give her, out she flies about 3 per cent., and worries me to invest in some wild-cat or other, like your friend’s thing, the Jaco what is it?  I don’t pay the slightest attention to her.

Mrs. Hope. [From the direction of the house.] Tom!

Colonel. [Rising.] Yes, dear! [Then dropping his voice.] I say, Molly, don’t you mind what I said about young Lever.  I don’t want you to imagine that I think harm of people—­you know I don’t—­but so many women come to grief, and—­[hotly]—­I can’t stand men about town; not that he of course——­