He takes a small china cup from of the mantel-piece; it breaks
     with the pressure of his hand, and falls into the fireplace. 
     While he stands looking at it blankly, there is a knock.

Sir William.  Come in!

     Freda enters from the corridor.

Sir William.  I’ve asked you to be good enough to come, in order that—­[pointing to chair]—­You may sit down.

     But though she advances two or three steps, she does not sit
     down.

Sir William.  This is a sad business.

Freda. [Below her breath] Yes, Sir William.

Sir William. [Becoming conscious of the depths of feeling before him] I—­er—­are you attached to my son?

Freda. [In a whisper] Yes.

Sir William.  It’s very painful to me to have to do this. [He turns away from her and speaks to the fire.] I sent for you—­to—­ask—­ [quickly] How old are you?

Freda.  Twenty-two.

Sir William. [More resolutely] Do you expect me to sanction such a mad idea as a marriage?

Freda.  I don’t expect anything.

Sir William.  You know—­you haven’t earned the right to be considered.

Freda.  Not yet!

Sir William.  What!  That oughtn’t to help you!  On the contrary.  Now brace yourself up, and listen to me!

     She stands waiting to hear her sentence.  Sir William looks at
     her; and his glance gradually wavers.

Sir William.  I’ve not a word to say for my son.  He’s behaved like a scamp.

Freda.  Oh! no!

Sir William. [With a silencing gesture] At the same, time—­What made you forget yourself?  You’ve no excuse, you know.

Freda.  No.

Sir William.  You’ll deserve all you’ll get.  Confound it!  To expect me to—­It’s intolerable!  Do you know where my son is?

Freda. [Faintly] I think he’s in the billiard-room with my lady.

Sir William. [With renewed resolution] I wanted to—­to put it to you—­as a—­as a—­what! [Seeing her stand so absolutely motionless, looking at him, he turns abruptly, and opens the billiard-room door] I’ll speak to him first.  Come in here, please! [To Freda] Go in, and wait!

     Lady Cheshire and Bill Come in, and Freda passing them, goes
     into the billiard-room to wait.

Sir William. [Speaking with a pause between each sentence] Your mother and I have spoken of this—­calamity.  I imagine that even you have some dim perception of the monstrous nature of it.  I must tell you this:  If you do this mad thing, you fend for yourself.  You’ll receive nothing from me now or hereafter.  I consider that only due to the position our family has always held here.  Your brother will take your place.  We shall—­get on as best we can without you. [There is a dead silence till he adds sharply] Well!