Margaret. [Bewildered] Hint? What hint?
Sydney. Oh, Mother, you’re such a lamb. You never see anything. [To Miss Fairfield] I’m sorry, Auntie, but I’m seventeen, and I’ve left school, and I am not going to church to-day, or any day any more ever, except to chaperon Mother and Gray next week, bless ’em!
Miss Fairfield. I do think, Margaret, she ought at least to call him Uncle.
Margaret. Aren’t you coming with us to-day, darling? Christmas Day?
Sydney. Sorry, Mother. It’s against my principles. I refuse to kneel down and say I’m a miserable sinner. I’m not miserable and I’m not a sinner, and I cannot tell a lie to please any old—prayer-book. Besides, I’m expecting Kit.
Miss Fairfield. You’ll find that Kit takes his mother to church. She hasn’t lost all her influence—
Sydney. [Darkly] She’ll be finding herself up against me soon.
Margaret. [Like a schoolgirl] Oh, Sydney, has he—?
Sydney. He’s trying his hardest to, but I like to sort of spread my jam.
Margaret. Then—then—?