Colonel. [Changing the subject nervously.] I like your friend, Lever, Molly.  He came to me before dinner quite distressed about your Aunt, beggin’ me not to take those shares.  She ’ll be the first to worry me, but he made such a point of it, poor chap—­in the end I was obliged to say I wouldn’t.  I thought it showed very’ nice feeling. [Ruefully.] It’s a pretty tight fit to make two ends meet on my income—­I’ve missed a good thing, all owing to your Aunt. [Dropping his voice.] I don’t mind telling you, Molly, I think they’ve got a much finer mine there than they’ve any idea of.

     [Mrs. Gwyn gives way to laughter that is very near to sobs.]

[With dignity.] I can’t see what there is to laugh at.

Mrs. Gwyn.  I don’t know what’s the matter with me this evening.

Miss beech. [In a low voice.] I do.

Colonel.  There, there!  Give me a kiss, old girl! [He kisses her on the brow.] Why, your forehead’s as hot as fire.  I know—­I know-you ’re fretting about Joy.  Never mind—­come! [He draws her hand beneath his arm.] Let’s go and have a look at the moon on the river.  We all get upset at times; eh! [Lifting his hand as if he had been stung.] Why, you ’re not crying, Molly!  I say!  Don’t do that, old girl, it makes me wretched.  Look here, Peachey. [Holding out the hand on which the tear has dropped.] This is dreadful!

Mrs. Gwyn. [With a violent effort.] It’s all right, Uncle Tom!

     [Miss beech wipes her own eyes stealthily.  From the house is
     heard the voice of Mrs. Hope, calling “Tom.”]

Miss beech.  Some one calling you.

Colonel.  There, there, my dear, you just stay here, and cool yourself—­I ’ll come back—­shan’t be a minute. [He turns to go.]

     [Mrs. Hope’s voice sounds nearer.]

[Turning back.] And Molly, old girl, don’t you mind anything I said.  I don’t remember what it was—­it must have been something, I suppose.

     [He hastily retreats.]

Mrs. Gwyn. [In a fierce low voice.] Why do you torture me?

Miss beech. [Sadly.] I don’t want to torture you.

Mrs. Gwyn, But you do.  D’ you think I haven’t seen this coming—­all these weeks.  I knew she must find out some time!  But even a day counts——­

Miss beech.  I don’t understand why you brought him down here.

Mrs. Gwyn. [After staring at her, bitterly.] When day after day and night after night you’ve thought of nothing but how to keep them both, you might a little want to prove that it was possible, mightn’t you?  But you don’t understand—­how should you?  You’ve never been a mother! [And fiercely.] You’ve never had a lov——­

     [Miss beech raises her face-it is all puckered.]