Craven.  Come, Julia.

Julia (with patronising affection).  Yes, Daddy, dear, presently.  (Charteris is meanwhile stealing to the right hand door.) Don’t wait for me:  I’ll come in a moment. (The Colonel hesitates.) It’s all right, Daddy.

Craven (very gravely).  Don’t be long, my dear. (He goes out.)

Charteris.  I’m off. (Makes a dash for the right hand door.)

Julia (darting at him and seizing his wrist).  Aren’t you coming?

Charteris.  No.  Unhand me Julia. (He tries to get away:  she holds him.) If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream for help.

Julia (reproachfully).  Leonard! (He breaks away from her.) Oh, how can you be so rough with me, dear.  Did you get my letter?

Charteris.  Burnt it—­(she turns away, struck to the heart, and buries her face in her hands)—­along with hers.

Julia (quickly turning again).  Hers!  Has she written to you?

Charteris.  Yes, to break off with me on your account.

Julia (her eyes gleaming).  Ah!

Charteris.  You are pleased.  Wretch!  Now you have lost the last scrap of my regard. (He turns to go, but is stopped by the return of Sylvia.  Julia turns away and stands pretending to read a paper which she picks up from the table.)

Sylvia (offhandedly).  Hallo, Charteris:  how are you getting on? (She takes his arm familiarly and walks down the room with him.) Have you seen Grace Tranfield this morning? (Julia drops the paper and comes a step nearer to listen.) You generally know where she is to be found.

Charteris.  I shall never know any more, Sylvia.  She’s quarrelled with me.

Sylvia.  Sylvia!  How often am I to tell you that I am not Sylvia at the club?

Charteris.  I forgot.  I beg your pardon, Craven, old chap (slaps her on the shoulder).

Sylvia.  That’s better—­a little overdone, but better.

Julia.  Don’t be a fool, Silly.

Sylvia.  Remember, Julia, if you please, that here we are members of the club, not sisters.  I don’t take liberties with you here on family grounds:  don’t you take any with me. (She goes to the settee and resumes her former place.)

Charteris.  Quite right, Craven.  Down with the tyranny of the elder sister!

Julia.  You ought to know better than to encourage a child to make herself ridiculous, Leonard, even at my expense.

Charteris (seating himself on the edge of the table).  Your lunch will be cold, Julia. (Julia is about to retort furiously when she is checked by the reappearance of Cuthbertson at the left hand door.)

Cuthbertson.  What has become of you, Miss Craven?  Your father is getting quite uneasy.  We’re all waiting for you.

Julia.  So I have just been reminded, thank you. (She goes out angrily past him, Sylvia looking round to see.)