Mrs Bridgenorth.  There really is something fascinating about
Incognita.  She never gives her address.  Thats a good sign.

The general.  Mf!  No assignations, you mean?

The Bishop.  Oh yes:  she began the correspondence by making a very curious but very natural assignation.  She wants me to meet her in heaven.  I hope I shall.

The general.  Well, I must say I hope not, Alfred.  I hope not.

Mrs Bridgenorth.  She says she is happily married, and that love is a necessary of life to her, but that she must have, high above all her lovers—­

The bishop.  She has several apparently—­

Mrs Bridgenorth. —­some great man who will never know her, never touch her, as she is on earth, but whom she can meet in Heaven when she has risen above all the everyday vulgarities of earthly love.

The bishop [rising] Excellent.  Very good for her; and no trouble to me.  Everybody ought to have one of these idealizations, like Dante’s Beatrice. [He clasps his hands behind him, and strolls to the hearth and back, singing].

Lesbia appears in the tower, rather perturbed.

Lesbia.  Alice:  will you come upstairs?  Edith is not dressed.

Mrs Bridgenorth [rising] Not dressed!  Does she know what hour it is?

Lesbia.  She has locked herself into her room, reading.

The Bishop’s song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.

The general.  Reading!

The bishop.  What is she reading?

Lesbia.  Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o’clock post.  She wont come out.  She wont open the door.  And she says she doesnt know whether she’s going to be married or not till she’s finished the pamphlet.  Did you ever hear such a thing?  Do come and speak to her.

Mrs Bridgenorth.  Alfred:  you had better go.

The bishop.  Try Collins.

Lesbia.  Weve tried Collins already.  He got all that Ive told you out of her through the keyhole.  Come, Alice. [She vanishes.  Mrs Bridgenorth hurries after her].

The bishop.  This means a delay.  I shall go back to my work [he makes for the study door].

Reginald.  What are you working at now?

The bishop [stopping] A chapter in my history of marriage.  I’m just at the Roman business, you know.

The general [coming from the garden door to the chair Mrs Bridgenorth has just left, and sitting down] Not more Ritualism, I hope, Alfred?

The bishop.  Oh no.  I mean ancient Rome. [He seats himself on the edge of the table].  Ive just come to the period when the propertied classes refused to get married and went in for marriage settlements instead.  A few of the oldest families stuck to the marriage tradition so as to keep up the supply of vestal virgins, who had to be legitimate; but nobody else dreamt of getting married.  It’s all very interesting, because we’re coming to that here in England; except that as we dont require any vestal virgins, nobody will get married at all, except the poor, perhaps.