Mollen. (sitting R.) No! No!
Sir J. She thought you meant me!
Mollen. Balsted, how could you! Why, when I left the room she had accepted Everard!
Sir J. And I sent the boy to her—he comes back, pale as a ghost—and says she's engaged—to ME! (sit R. of C. table)
(Lady Claude up L. and down L. convulsed with laughter. Both men turn to her.)
Mollen. (reproachfully) My dear Rosamund, your hilarity is misplaced.
Lady C. (contritely but still choking, sit L. by work table) I'm very sorry—
Mollen. Our friend has unfortunately entangled himself in a most serious dilemma—
Sir J. I! That's good! You did the proposing!
Mollen. You heard me—you even complimented me!