Letty.  Well, so should I. She was only sticking up for her friends.

Ernest. Ask the old Peachey-bird.  She knows a thing or two.  Look here, I don’t mind a man’s being a bit of a sportsman, but I think Molly’s bringin’ him down here is too thick.  Your old Dad’s got one of his notions that because this Josser’s his guest, he must keep him in a glass case, and take shares in his mine, and all the rest of it.

Letty.  I do think people are horrible, always thinking things.  It’s not as if Molly were a stranger.  She’s my own cousin.  I ’m not going to believe anything about my own cousin.  I simply won’t.

Ernest. [Reluctantly realising the difference that this makes.] I suppose it does make a difference, her bein’ your cousin.

Letty.  Of course it does!  I only hope to goodness no one will make Joy suspect——­

[She stops and buts her finger to her lips, for joy is coming towards them, as the tea-bell sounds.  She is followed by Dick and miss beech with the Eau de Cologne.  The colonel and Mrs. Hope are also coming back, discussing still each other’s point of view.]

Joy.  Where ’s Mother?  Isn’t she here?

Mrs. Hope.  Now Joy, come and sit down; your mother’s been told tea’s ready; if she lets it get cold it’s her lookout.

Dick. [Producing a rug, and spreading it beneath the tree.] Plenty of room, Joy.

Joy.  I don’t believe Mother knows, Aunt Nell.

     [Mrs. Gwyn and lever appear in the opening of the wall.]

Letty. [Touching ERNEST’s arm.] Look, Ernie!  Four couples and Peachey——­

Ernest. [Preoccupied.] What couples?

Joy.  Oh!  Mums, here you are!

     [Seizing her, she turns her back on lever.  They sit in various
     seats, and Mrs. Hope pours out the tea.]

Mrs. Hope.  Hand the sandwiches to Mr. Lever, Peachey.  It’s our own jam, Mr. Lever.

Lever.  Thanks. [He takes a bite.] It’s splendid!

Mrs. Gwyn. [With forced gaiety.] It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you eat jam.

Lever. [Smiling a forced smile.] Really!  But I love it.

Mrs. Gwyn. [With a little bow.] You always refuse mine.

Joy. [Who has been staring at her enemy, suddenly.] I’m all burnt up!  Are n’t you simply boiled, Mother?

     [She touches her Mother’s forehead.]

Mrs. Gwyn.  Ugh!  You’re quite clammy, Joy.

Joy.  It’s enough to make any one clammy.

     [Her eyes go back to lever’s face as though to stab him.]

Ernest. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the glass is going down.