[Sitting on the settee on the right.] Ho, my dear!
[Philip has joined Ottoline in the vestibule. He now follows her into the room, shutting the vestibule door. She is elegantly dressed in white and, though she has recovered her usual stateliness and composure, is a picture of radiant happiness.
Ottoline.
[Giving her hand to Roope, who raises it to his lips—sweetly.] I am glad you are home, Robbie, and that you are here to-night. [To Lady Filson and Sir Randle.] Mother—Dad—[espying Bertram] oh, and there's Bertram—don't be scandalized, any of you! [To Roope, resting her hands on his shoulders.] Une fois de plus, mon ami, pour vous témoigner ma gratitude!
[She kisses him. Lady Filson laughs indulgently, and Sir Randle, wagging his head, moves to the fireplace.
Roope.
Ha, ha, ha——!
Ottoline.
Ha, ha, ha! [Going to the fireplace.] Ah, what a lovely fire! [To Sir Randle, as Roope seats himself in the chair by the smoking-table and prepares to make himself agreeable to Lady Filson.] Share it with me, Dad, and let me warm my toes before dinner. I'm frozen!
Philip.