Mollen. (triumphantly) Miss Messilent, nor he, I assure you—nor he! (away R. C.) Ah, lovers, lovers! Then your guardian may tell Mr. Swenboys—
Margaret. (sinking her head) Ah—poor Everard!
Mollen.(C. smiling) Poor Everard! I don't think we need pity him! (She rises) Miss Messilent, I have fulfilled my mission, and now I will leave you. I relinquish my paternal role with regret, with considerable regret—and join the ranks of your other admirers. Miss Messilent, I kiss your hand!
(Sir J. rises and steps forward: he is beaming with joy. Mollentrave bows to her and crosses her over to his R. and goes to the door L. 3 E. Sir Joseph rises, accompanying him. Margaret remains standing R. C. as though entranced.)
Mollen. (up L. at the door, to Sir J.) Rather good, eh, don't you think, for an impromptu?
Sir J. (up L. C.) Good! Magnificent! How can I thank you?
Mollen. Tut, tut, I've enjoyed it. Now make her name the day while the ecstatic mood's still on her! Good-bye! Till to-morrow!
(Mollentrave goes L. 3 E.)
(Sir Joseph returns to Margaret)
Sir J. (C. all his awkwardness returning) My dear—Margaret, I am really most glad—most glad. And Everard—well, well, I need say nothing about Everard. And now that we—know—will you regard me as—inconsiderate—if I press for an—early—marriage?