(Since having the flowers Margaret has been undoing them and dropping them about the room.)
Miss Tre. (sit on settee L.) I have seen him, when your name was mentioned, change colour, and murmur something beneath his breath.
Margaret. (sit on stool L.) What was it? Oh, what?
Miss Tre. Nay, I could not catch. But Margaret, tell me—Everard has been imploring—
Margaret. (softly) Ah, poor Everard! It was not till you opened my eyes, dear Treaby, that I—of course I am fond of Everard—oh, very fond! But—can I hesitate! Between a boy—and a great man—a leader of men! Dear Treaby, (rise and up C.) I beseech you—leave me here, for a moment!
Miss Tre. (rise and up L. C.) I go, dear child, I go—I feel that my eyes are red—I must wash away these tears. Plead for me with your guardian, Margaret—rid us of the hateful Martelli!
Margaret. (round to L. C. and embracing Miss Tre.) I will try—oh, I will try!
(Miss Treable kisses her devotedly and goes L. 3 E. Margaret, after a glance round the room, to make sure she is unobserved, takes a rose, kisses it, and lays it on Sir Joseph's desk—up C. R. of desk.)
Speak for me, rose, and tell him of my love! Lie fondly on his heart, dear rose!