H. (who has been fidgeting about the room—aside). If only I had gone half an hour ago—in the flush of triumph, as it were! It was unnecessary, in order to avoid making a sentimental spectacle of myself, to fall back upon the larder!
E. (going back to table and taking up a letter). Do you know what I was doing when you came this afternoon?
H. Learning a new Kensington stitch? Studying a receipt-book? Putting a man out of his misery by letter? These are, I believe, some departments of “woman’s work.”
E. No, I was reading an old letter—one by which a man put himself out of misery. Your last letter, in fact.
H. My last letter?
E. Yes.
Mary Ann brings in the tea, and as Esther moves things on the table, she hands him Dr. Tennant’s letter by mistake. Harold glances at it and looks up surprised, but Esther does not see him.
H. Am I to read this?
E. Certainly.
Mary Ann leaves the room. Esther busies herself with the tea-things.