BELINDA. They can't do much harm to each other in two minutes.
DELIA (taking her hat). Well, I'll go and unpack. You really won't mind my coming down afterwards?
BELINDA. Of course not. (A little awkwardly) Darling one, I wonder if you'd mind—just at first—being introduced as my niece. You see, I expect they're in a bad temper already, having come here together, and we don't want to spoil their day entirely.
DELIA (smiling). I'll be your mother if you like.
BELINDA. Oh no, that wouldn't do, because then Mr. Baxter would feel that he ought to ask your permission before paying his attentions to me. He's just that sort of man. A niece is so safe—however good you are at statistics, you can't really prove anything.
DELIA. All right, mummy.
BELINDA (enjoying herself). You'd like to be called by a different name, wouldn't you? There's something so thrilling about taking a false name. Such a lot of adventures begin like that. How would you like to be Miss Robinson, darling? It's a nice easy one to remember. (Persuasively.) And you shall put your hair up so as to feel more disguised. What fun we're going to have!
DELIA. You baby! All right, then, I'm Miss Robinson, your favourite niece. (She moves towards the house.)
BELINDA. How sweet of you! Oh, I'm coming with you to do your hair. You don't think you're going to be allowed to do it yourself, when so much depends on it, and husbands leave you because of it, and—[They do in together.]
[BETTY comes from the other side of the house into the garden, followed by MR. BAXTER and MR. DEVENISH. MR. BAXTER is forty-five, prim and erect, with close-trimmed moustache and side-whiskers. His clothes are dark and he wears a bowler-hat. MR. DEVENISH is a long-haired, good-looking boy in a négligé costume; perhaps twenty-two years old, and very scornful of the world.]