Lady Cheshire.  I just wondered whether you’d like to ask my advice. 
Your engagement with Dunning’s broken off, isn’t it?

Rose.  Yes—­but I’ve told him he’s got to marry me.

Lady Cheshire.  I see!  And you think that’ll be the wisest thing?

Rose. [Stolidly] I don’t know, my lady.  He’s got to.

Lady Cheshire.  I do hope you’re a little fond of him still.

Rose.  I’m not.  He don’t deserve it.

Lady Cheshire:  And—­do you think he’s quite lost his affection for you?

Rose.  I suppose so, else he wouldn’t treat me as he’s done.  He’s after that—­that—­He didn’t ought to treat me as if I was dead.

Lady Cheshire.  No, no—­of course.  But you will think it all well over, won’t you?

Rose.  I’ve a—­got nothing to think over, except what I know of.

Lady Cheshire.  But for you both t0 marry in that spirit!  You know it’s for life, Rose. [Looking into her face] I’m always ready to help you.

Rose. [Dropping a very slight curtsey] Thank you, my lady, but I think he ought to marry me.  I’ve told him he ought.

Lady Cheshire. [Sighing] Well, that’s all I wanted to say.  It’s a question of your self-respect; I can’t give you any real advice.  But just remember that if you want a friend——­

Rose. [With a gulp] I’m not so ’ard, really.  I only want him to do what’s right by me.

Lady Cheshire. [With a little lift of her eyebrow—­gently] Yes, yes—­I see.

Rose. [Glancing back at the door] I don’t like meeting the servants.

Lady Cheshire.  Come along, I’ll take you out another way. [As they reach the door, dot comes in.]

Dot. [With a glance at rose] Can we have this room for the mouldy rehearsal, Mother?

Lady Cheshire.  Yes, dear, you can air it here.

     Holding the door open for rose she follows her out.  And dot,
     with a book of “Caste” in her hand, arranges the room according
     to a diagram.

Dot.  Chair—­chair—­table—­chair—­Dash!  Table—­piano—­fire—­window! [Producing a pocket comb] Comb for Eccles.  Cradle?—­Cradle—­[She viciously dumps a waste-paper basket down, and drops a footstool into it] Brat! [Then reading from the book gloomily] “Enter Eccles breathless.  Esther and Polly rise-Esther puts on lid of bandbox.”  Bandbox!

Searching for something to represent a bandbox, she opens the workroom door.

Dot.  Freda?

     Freda comes in.

Dot.  I say, Freda.  Anything the matter?  You seem awfully down.
     [Freda does not answer.]

Dot.  You haven’t looked anything of a lollipop lately.