The dining-room.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Opening the door and peeping into the room.] Delightful! I can picture the bishop sitting there, my sister there, myself, perhaps, over there—delightful! [Closing the door and moving away, pointing to the upper door.] The hall and the little card-room I have seen. [Rapping the table.] But the grand question is, Mrs. Allingham—would you let? That’s the point, Allingham—would you feel inclined to let?
John.
Oh, if his lordship did us the honour of expressing a wish——
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
That’s extremely good-natured. [Trying to catch Mrs. Cloys’ eye.] You hear, Harriet?
Mrs. Cloys.
[With a gulp.] Yes.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.