Lady Filson.
[Under her breath.] Ho——!
Sir Randle.
[To her.] My dear——! [To Philip.] On the other hand, Mr. Mackworth, as you are probably aware, my daughter is—no, I won't say a rich woman—I will say comfortably provided for; not by the late Comte de Chaumié, but by myself. [Closing his eyes.] I have never been a niggardly parent, Mr. Mackworth.
Ottoline.
[Softly, without turning.] Indeed, no, Dad!
Philip.
[To Sir Randle, bluntly.] Yes, I do know of the settlement you made upon Ottoline on her marriage, and of your having supplemented it when she became a widow. Very handsome of you.
Lady Filson.
[As before.] Ha!