Celia. Father, this is Colonel Vavasour.
Faraday. How do you do? (They shake hands.)
Smith. How do you do? I have just returned from Somaliland.
Faraday. Oh! Then you knew----
(Smith nods; drops his head.)
Smith. My dearest friend.
Faraday. Poor fellow! Poor fellow! (Smith looks up.) Oh, not for that reason--not for that reason, of course. (Lady Trenchard, Madge and Phyllis enter, in evening dress, followed by Tarver.) My daughters, Colonel Vavasour. We are only waiting for your aunt now.
(Lady Trenchard shakes hands gushingly, crosses to Smith and sits R. of table L., drawing on her gloves. Madge merely bows as she crosses and joins Evelyn. Phyllis crosses, and joins them. Smith goes R.C. Faraday has gone L. at back and comes down stage L. of table L. Tarver goes directly and sits on fender.)
Faraday. (Continuing) Sorry we can't keep you to dinner.
Celia. (Sits on lower end of sofa) That's quite all right, Father. Colonel Vavasour is obliged to return to London to-night. There is an excellent train at eight-thirty.