Mrs Bridgenorth.  Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands].  Another niece to give away.  This is the last of them.

The general [very gloomy] Yes, Alice.  Nothing for the old warrior uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.  Has—­[he chokes] has your sister come yet?

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Why do you always call Lesbia my sister?  Dont you know that it annoys her more than any of the rest of your tricks?

The general.  Tricks!  Ha!  Well, I’ll try to break myself of it; but I think she might bear with me in a little thing like that.  She knows that her name sticks in my throat.  Better call her your sister than try to call her L—­ [he almost breaks down] L—­ well, call her by her name and make a fool of myself by crying. [He sits down at the near end of the table].

Mrs Bridgenorth [going to him and rallying him] Oh come, Boxer!  Really, really!  We are no longer boys and girls.  You cant keep up a broken heart all your life.  It must be nearly twenty years since she refused you.  And you know that it’s not because she dislikes you, but only that she’s not a marrying woman.

The general.  It’s no use.  I love her still.  And I cant help telling her so whenever we meet, though I know it makes her avoid me. [He all but weeps].

Mrs Bridgenorth.  What does she say when you tell her?

The general.  Only that she wonders when I am going to grow out of it.  I know now that I shall never grow out of it.

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Perhaps you would if you married her.  I believe youre better as you are, Boxer.

The general.  I’m a miserable man.  I’m really sorry to be a ridiculous old bore, Alice; but when I come to this house for a wedding—­to these scenes—­to—­to recollections of the past—­ always to give the bride to somebody else, and never to have my bride given to me—­[he rises abruptly] May I go into the garden and smoke it off?

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Do, Boxer.

Collins returns with the wedding cake.

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Oh, heres the cake.  I believe it’s the same one we had for Florence’s wedding.

The general.  I cant bear it [he hurries out through the garden door].

Collins [putting the cake on the table] Well, look at that, maam!  Aint it odd that after all the weddings he’s given away at, the General cant stand the sight of a wedding cake yet.  It always seems to give him the same shock.

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Well, it’s his last shock.  You have married the whole family now, Collins. [She takes up The Times again and resumes her seat].

Collins.  Except your sister, maam.  A fine character of a lady, maam, is Miss Grantham.  I have an ambition to arrange her wedding breakfast.